Look at me
by IshiIchiMari
Summary: Ishida has lost his memories due to an infection caused by a hollow. Ichigo, feeling guilty due to the fact that he hadn't come to save the boy in time, is hoping that this can count as his second chance.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Look at me  
Summary: Ishida has lost his memories due to an infection caused by a hollow. Ichigo, feeling guilty due to the fact that he hadn't come to save the boy in time, is hoping that this can count as his second chance. However, what happens when no matter what, the Quincy refuses to even regard him as nothing more than an 'acquaintance' and not accept friendship? Ichigo is going to have to do his best to hold every emotion in, but it's only a matter of time before he snaps.  
A/N: Before you start this, I will tell you now; **updates will be slow. **I won't abandon this fic, but I have a lot already in progress, as well as a personal life to uphold.  
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, or the characters. Just my writing.  
Warning: Swearing, smut in later chapters, violence. Also, this is **after the time skip**. Which means their new hair styles, fighting techniques, etc… There may be spoilers, but not too much.

Chapter 1: To lose (Introduction)

-X-

"Ishida?"

"Uryu?"

"Ishida-Kun…"

A quiet beeping sound could be heard, along with the soft noises of someone shuffling their feet against the hardwood floor. The male who lay in bed, hooked up to a machine of some sort groaned softly as his brows creased in confusion. Panting slightly, pale fingertips curled into the blankets below him as he rose from his unconscious state and began to open his eyes. At first, he was met by a blindingly bright light and winced as he closed his eyes almost immediately afterwards. He could hear someone shout to 'close the curtains' and listened to the sounds of a chain being yanked and material whizzing by on hooks as the room became dim. Breathe quickening, he could feel a gentle hand take his own and he gave it a light squeeze as people continued to speak around him. He wasn't really sure what they were saying, or how the words affected him—due to something being injected into his arm that clouded his mind.

After a few minutes, the conversation died down to quiet whispers as he felt himself relax. Whatever it was that had been put into him was making the slight painful sensation he had earlier begin to vanish and die down. He was somewhat thankful, however he wasn't sure exactly where he was—or what had happened even. That, and what was going on. Why was in he in a bed, and who were the people around him? Had something happened to him that caused him to black out? He wasn't sure, but he did know that if he wanted these questions answered, he would have to open his eyes and see for himself.

Just as he was about to do so, he heard someone speak his name from his right. Furrowing his eyebrows, he wasn't sure exactly who it was—but he did take note of how the spiritual pressure belonged to someone that was not human. In fact, he could tell that it was a Shinigami.

Wincing softly as he shifted and his left shoulder moved against the mattress, he let out a shaky breath and could feel something damp and cool press against his injured area. His breathing quickened once more, however he closed his mouth and breathed through his nose as he willed himself to calm down. Swallowing, he let out another soft breath afterwards—his lips parting in the process as he allowed himself to relax. Ever so slowly, he began to open his eyes. Light hit him right away, however it wasn't as strong as earlier and he was able to squint as his eyes began to adjust. After a few moments, he realized the room was a bit blurry and gingerly reached out a hand as he began to feel for his glasses.

He must have muttered something, because he found his hand being grasped in another's and could feel his glasses being placed within his grasp. He murmured something, hoping that he had actually been able to get out a decent 'thank you' to whoever it was, in return, before reaching up with a shaky hand to place his glasses back onto his face. It had taken him a couple of tries, but after a few seconds he was able to adjust them into the right positioning and push them up the bridge of his nose. Closing his eyes as he did this, he sucked in a large breath before focussing. When he next opened his eyes and glanced up, he was met with somewhat relieved and otherwise happy expressions on those that stood around him.

"I-Ishida-kun!" A female shouted, her long flowing hair going past her shoulders and down her back.

"Uryu…" Another let out a relieved breath as her large, violet eyes slid close and she leaned against a taller, red headed male.

"Looks like he finally woke up." Said a smirking blonde, his fan waving in front of his face to cover his lips as his hat tipped forward.

And finally, he glanced up and watched as the one that was holding his hand looked down at him—the male's concerned, chocolate colored irises sweeping over his face as he spoke. "Are you alright, Ishida?"

Confused, the archer merely stared at the people around him, furrowing his brows as the reiatsu in the room stirred. The orange haired male he recognized as a classmate, as well as the female with the matching colored hair and the taller, silent man in the corner of the room. However, he didn't know why the three Shinigami were there, as well as he was confused over why he could feel a Shinigami's spiritual pressure wafting from the man beside him. Was he not human? Didn't he recall being in the same class as the boy?

"What's…" He cracked out, his voice somewhat strained as he realized how dry his throat was. Clearing it, he tried to swallow once more—only to find he was lacking saliva from within his mouth. He watched as the male that stood beside him moved quickly, and somewhat perplexed—he eyed the glass of water as the teen held it out to him. Reaching up, he grasped the cup and waited; however as the other let go, he almost dropped it and began to grit his teeth. Although, the glass did not fall—seeing as the other boy must have been expecting it and brought the cup to his lips for him, as he looked down at him.

He felt like a child, having to be fed—but he wasn't sure why he was so weak in the first place. So, allowing his lips to part as the beverage was placed to his lips—he sipped as the cup was tipped slowly and with care, against his mouth. He could feel the cold water glide down his throat, coating his parched lips and mouth as he sipped. He took longer gulps than he usually would have, and gently reached up to push the male's hand away afterwards, when he was finished.

"Thank you…" He managed to whisper as the taller male pulled his hand away. He watched as a relieved and somewhat content smile graced the other's features and slowly began to adjust himself as he tried to sit up.

"Woa, careful." The blonde with the fan spoke from across the room. "You almost lost your arm, you know. You really should be taking it easy."

_My arm? _Ishida questioned silently as he glanced down at his shoulder. And just as he suspected, his entire left arm from the shoulder to his elbow had been wrapped neatly in bandages and partially around his chest. He wasn't naked, only shirtless—however he did feel somewhat exposed in a place he was unfamiliar with. He wanted to sit up though, so when he tried to move himself—he was a little reluctant at first but allowed the male who seemed to be overly nice to him upon waking up, adjust him and help him to sit up.

Keeping quiet for a little bit, he glanced around the room at everyone around him and felt a bit uncomfortable at the stares directed his way. Deciding that it would be best to ask now, rather to wait any longer, he let out a soft breath and relaxed his shoulders as he felt the pillows behind his back begin to adjust to his weight. "Where am I?" He questioned finally, looking to the blonde who seemed to be the owner of the house. A Shinigami, no doubt—judging by his reiatsu. Which made him wonder why he was here in the first place, however when they said he nearly lost his arm, there was only one explanation for it, really.

"Where are you?" Eyebrows raised, the male tipped his head back and slid off his hat.

Frowning, Ishida gave a nod and watched out of the corner of his eyes as the female with the longer hair—her name was Orihime, was it not?—began to frown and hold her hands above her chest. Now he was really confused…

"You don't know where you are?" The red haired male, also a Shinigami spoke up as tattooed eyebrows rose.

Looking in the male's direction, the archer gave a deadpanned look as he rolled his eyes and reached up to adjust his glasses. "No, I felt like asking for the fun of it, Shinigami." Furrowing his brows once more, he glanced to the blonde once more as he leaned forward. "Why am I here, and what happened? I know that the majority of you are Shinigami—but that doesn't explain how you would have known about me. And…" Looking to Orihime, and then to Sado and eventually allowing his gaze to drift back to the orange haired male beside him—he frowned. "And why do your reiatsu suddenly feel so different than they did yesterday?"

The room went silent for a moment as everyone stared at the archer. Ishida began to shift once more in the bed he was sitting up upon and his hands lightly clenched into the fabric of the sheets which rested on his lap. Looking at them, one at a time—he took in their confused expressions which seemed to resemble his own. Did something happen while he was out? Did the Shinigami figure out that he was a Quincy and came to destroy the last of his race? Or perhaps those people, his classmates had really had this power all along and were somehow in on it? No… He could have ignored the females and the larger male's—Chad's—but he would have recognized the Shinigami beside him. The spiky haired male couldn't control his reiatsu, even if he wanted to which was becoming quite obvious to the Quincy as he felt the man's spiritual pressure fluctuate around him. So… If none of that, then what? Snapping out of his thoughts, he looked up as the male across from him began to speak once more—his hat being set down on his knee as his cane the archer hadn't realized he had been holding was placed on the floor.

"Do you recognize us, Uryu?" The man asked simply as he stared into the Quincy's eyes.

Ishida was about to answer as he parted his lips—only to be cut off by a low growl and the raising of reiatsu coming from next to his bed.

"What are you talking about? Why are you asking him such things? Of course he remembers us!" Looking down at the Quincy in the bed, concerned, brown irises locked onto Ishida's azure ones. "You recognize us… don't you?"

Ishida was bewildered as he heard the other speak. Raising his eyebrows, he only furrowed them in the slightest afterwards as he shook his head. "No… Well, I do recognize the majority of you. You all are in my class, are you not?" Tilting his head to the side, he frowned. "However I do not recall you ever being a Shinigami… Nor do I recall you two having powers of some sort." Glancing to the female across the room, he watched as she jumped slightly before covering her mouth and whispering.

"Ishida-Kun…"

"I see…" The blonde spoke once more, causing everyone to gaze in his direction. Waving a hand, as if to dismiss them, he leaned forward as he glanced at the raven haired teen and tilted his head to the side. "Tell us, what do you remember happening last?"

Frowning, Ishida didn't see what that had to do with anything and let out a breath. "I don't know… I don't remember anything after class the other day, when I had felt the presence of a Shinigami enter Karakura town…"

"A Shinigami?"

"Yes, the one over there." Looking towards the smaller female, he watched as her brows furrowed and she began to frown as well.

"But Rukia didn't come back till yesterday…" Ichigo mumbled softly as he glanced at the shop keep. He could feel the archer's eyes on him but ignored it as he continued. "Ishida's been out for a week now."

Blinking, Ishida's eyebrows rose as he heard the other speak and sputtered slightly as he leaned forward. "W-What do you mean I've been out for a week?" He pressed on, furrowing his brows. "And now that I think about it, why do you all suddenly look older. If I was out for a week, you wouldn't have changed that much."

"Older?" The tallest of the men spoke up as he stood up straight. His brown eyes lacing with worry as he looked over to the Quincy. "What do you mean, Uryu?"

Opening his mouth to answer, Ishida was cut off once more by the blonde speaking.

"I know! Ishida-San." He stood from his seat on the windowsill as he began to walk forward. Leaning over the teen, he looked at him closely as he spoke. "How old are you?"

He thought it was a silly question, but he raised an eyebrow and answered it nonetheless. "I am fifteen, why?" When he heard a soft gasp come from Orihime, he frowned and leaned to his side to get a better look—only to see the shocked expressions on the others' faces as they glanced right back towards him. Looking upwards and towards the other teen, he saw worry within the male's chocolate irises, rather than shock that the other's demonstrated.

"I see…" Slipping his fan into his pocket, the shopkeeper moved back to check a few things which were hooked up to the Quincy before standing up straight. "Well, I think we all know the problem then." His voice became serious as everyone looked in his direction. Gazing down at the Quincy, he spoke simply as he leaned against a small dresser and let out a soft breath. "Looks like our friend here has lost his memory."

Blinking, Ishida simply stared for a moment as the others began to talk in hushed voices amongst themselves. Lost his memory? How could that be? Did he fight a hollow or something of the sort and somehow an injury in his arm caused him to forget certain things? No… That wouldn't be right. And it wasn't as if he had hit his head or anything, he didn't feel any pain there. But then again, they did say he had been out for a week…

"How could he have lost his memory?"

The sound of the orange haired male's voice snapped Ishida from his thoughts.

"I thought you said you extracted the poison before it hit!" Growling, Ichigo stomped over to Urahara and grabbed a fistful of the male's robes. "How could he have forgotten two whole years and suddenly think he's fifteen again? He wouldn't even have met you yet!"

_Two…Years? _Eyes widening, Ishida quickly lifted the blanket from his lap and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He could hear the one female say his name and their gazes snap towards him—but he ignored it. Standing, he ripped some of the tubes from his arm—being careful about the one in his hand, seeing as he had dealt with them before when Ryuken treated him. Walking towards the other end of the room, he could feel the cold wooden flooring beneath his bare feet and had to suppress a shiver as he stepped in front of a mirror. Letting out a small breath, the Quincy closed his eyes and reached up to adjust his glasses once more. Waiting for a few seconds, he was pretty sure the others' were still staring at him and glanced over his shoulder for a moment as he opened his eyes to gaze at their concerned expressions. Frowning, he could feel the anxiety pulse through his veins, but he had to know the truth. If he had truly lost two years of his memory, he would have to look different—would he not?

Tilting his head and facing forwards, he sucked in a surprised breath as he looked to his reflection in the mirror. Of course he recognized this as himself, seeing as there weren't any major changes; but he looked much older if he truly thought about it. His hair that had once hung down either side of his face was now shorter, straighter and tucked behind one ear. His rectangular frames were replaced by smoothed, somewhat circular ones and his eyebrows much thinner and refined. He was… no… Is… Seventeen, now? On the verge of adulthood and didn't remember two years of his high school days? Well, to put it bluntly. It really sucked.

"Ishida-Kun…?"

Turning around, he looked at the female and gave a small smile. He could tell she was worried, so he tried to reassure her as he reached up to play with his hair. "I'm alright… Inoue-San." He spoke, glad that he remembered the names of all those who were in his class. It really was going to be difficult, seeing as since they were here—they were most likely his closes friends. He would have to be informed, he supposed, or perhaps injected with something that could help get his memory back. Anything that would at least be temporary, he needed though, until then.

When she smiled slightly back at him, he made his way back to the bed as he stopped in front of it. Unsure as to what to do, exactly, he stood there a bit uncomfortable as he waited for someone to speak up.

"I guess there isn't much we can do… Well, someone is going to have to catch him up for when you go to school, but other than that, he's missed a lot in the other world-wise." The shop keep spoke as he took out his fan and waved it in front of his face.

This caused Ishida's brows to furrow, but he knew the male was right and he slowly began to fold his arms across his chest. "I suppose someone should start with telling me what happened then. Who knows? Perhaps that may trigger my memory." When the others' went silent and merely looked off in separate directions, Ishida's brows furrowed and he dropped his hands to his sides. "What?"

"Well…"

Looking over towards Orihime as she began to speak, his expression softened as he watched her twiddle her thumbs and shift nervously. What was there to be nervous about?

"We… Weren't exactly there, Ishida-Kun…" Looking up at the male, her large, brown orbs gazed into his blue eyes. "Kurosaki-Kun was the only one there at the time, s-so…"

"Kurosaki?" Blinking, Ishida looked to his right at the orange haired teen who had gone silent and been leaning against the dresser as they spoke. When he glanced upwards and spotted Ishida staring, Ishida watched as the male quickly looked away and reached up to rub the back of his neck.

Waiting a bit impatiently, Ishida placed his hands onto his hips and tilted his head—causing the hair on the right side of his face to slide over his shoulder as he did so. "Well? What happened, Kurosaki?" When the boy still said nothing, his brows creased further and he opened his mouth to speak. Although, somewhat irritably, he found himself being interrupted once more as the blonde male on the other side of the room spoke up.

"I think we should leave them alone for a bit, don't you?" As the eyes all glanced in the male's direction, he stood up straight and began to make his way across the room, and towards the door on the other side. Grasping the handle and pulling the door open, he looked over his shoulder with a smile as he beckoned everyone in his direction. "Come now, we don't want to get into the middle of this, now do we?" Smile brightening, he glanced at the Quincy as he waved his hand and stepped out of the door. "I'm Urahara Kisuke, by the way. No need to hate me because I am a Shinigami. You two just have fun talking now, and try not to destroy the shop. We'll be out here getting your stuff ready."

With that, Ishida watched as everyone—one by one began to exit the room. The orange haired female paused at the door, and his smile returned as he looked at her—and when she smiled back, he nodded and she left the room quietly, shutting the door behind her.

When the room became quiet, Ishida turned back to Ichigo with a perplexed look on his face. Pursing his lips into a thin line, he slowly began to fold his arms once more as he made his way over towards the bed and sat down upon the edge of it, facing the teen. He didn't say anything for the longest time, completely baffled as to why the teen wouldn't want to say what happened in front of everyone else. He could think of two reasons, actually—but he hoped it was neither of the two. Because, well, the first one was that he had been an idiot—so whatever had happened between him and the hollow was his fault entirely. The only other thing he could think of, was that this… Shinigami had done something and was holding himself accountable for Ishida's injury. Really, he did hate Shinigami—but he wasn't sure if this man _was _his friend or not, therefore wasn't sure if he should be mad at the male or not if that was the case.

"So…" He finally started, shifting so that he could slide back on the bed, on his butt. When Ichigo didn't even return his gaze when he looked up—Ishida's eyes narrowed slightly and he couldn't help but become somewhat irritated. He was the one who was attacked by a hollow, he was the one who had lost his memories—so it didn't matter what happened; he had every right to know and Ichigo had no right to keep quiet. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" This earned him a sideways glance from the other male, before Ichigo looked away once more. Ishida felt his eyebrow twitch.

"I take that as I need to shove an arrow up your ass in order to get an answer out of you?" When this didn't elicit anything from the other either, Ishida frowned as his brows creased. He was sure that would have done it…

Sighing, he slid his hand down his arm as he grasped his cross. Blinking, he looked down at his wrist before his eyes widened and he held up his arm. "I have a new cross as well…?" Murmuring more so to himself, rather than to the other—he merely stared, slightly amazed as his eyes lit up. However, this wasn't really the time to go all googly-eyed over a piece of weaponry when he needed answers from the other. Although, when he opened his mouth and turned to look at the other—he saw that his comment caused a small smile to form on Ichigo's lips and he was taken slightly aback.

"W-What is it, Kurosaki?"

Shaking his head, Ichigo slowly pushed off from the dresser he was currently leaning against to stand and glance down at the other male. "Nothing… I was just thinking that you look really happy when you looked at your cross just now. Almost as if you didn't lose your memory…" He muttered the last bit under his breath with a sigh as he began to make his way across the room—moving past the archer.

Frowning in the slightest, Ishida ignored the fact that his cheeks had heated up a bit due to the others' comment, and stood quickly—following after the boy. "Well, I did lose my memories and apparently you are the only one who knows what happened, Shinigami. So tell me what sort of mess did your thick skull get us into, to cause this?"

That made the substitute freeze, and because of that—Ishida had to stop himself or he would have bumped into the other male's back. Thoroughly confused, he really wished he could just yell at the man to spit it out already—but as he glanced down he noticed the clenching of the teen's fists and the trembling of his hands. "Kurosaki…?"

"I'm sorry…"

Blinking, Ishida hadn't expected an apology from the other. Not only because he didn't even know what had happened, nor what was going on—but also because he had just technically been rude to the male only a few minutes before, not even. He wanted to question it, to ask the other what he meant—but for some reason no words would form as he opened his mouth to speak. So instead, he simply stood there for a moment, arms limp at his sides as he glanced at the back of the others' spiky orange hair. If he was apologizing, then… Something did happen, or perhaps between them before the hollow had attacked. Or maybe it happened during the attack? Of course, he didn't know. For some reason, the apology seemed, not more sincere—simply… more deep. Almost as if he wasn't apologizing for Ishida getting hurt at all, but for something more important.

Letting out a long breath, the archer reached up and pressed his index finger to the middle of his glasses. Slipping his spectacles up the bridge of his nose as they threatened to slide down, he placed his hands onto his hips afterwards and made his way to walk around the taller teen. As he stepped in front of the orange haired male, he turned to face the other; taking note of how the boy refused to meet his eyes. "I'd say you don't need to apologize, but you really haven't told me a thing."

Chewing on the inside of his cheek as this didn't get a reaction out of the man in front of him, Ishida sucked in an even longer breath as he closed his eyes. "Listen, if you did anything, I'll tell you in advance; I won't freak out on you." Looking at the others' face, he could see the slight clench to Ichigo's jaw so he continued. "And I won't blame you either. I mean—I don't know you that much—well… I suppose I might, but that doesn't mean I am unreasonable. If you just tell me, depending on what really happened we can just let this slide and start working on getting my memories back. Perhaps afterwards, I can hit you upside the head if that will make you feel any better."

That, however, earned the slightest of chuckles to escape the other. Hearing the quiet sound caused Ishida's expression to soften a bit and he relaxed his shoulders as he shifted his weight onto one foot. "So? What shall it be, Kurosaki? Are you going to tell me?" Waiting, he watched as Ichigo's head slowly tilted upwards, and chocolate colored irises met his own, azure colored ones. Nothing was said for a couple of minutes, so he thought that he still wasn't going to get an answer and became slightly irritated. Letting out a breath, he parted his lips to speak—only to get cut off for what seemed to be the millionth time today.

"I…." Brows creasing into a scowl, Ichigo let out a breath as well as he looked away. "I'm sorry." He muttered quietly, looking down. "I can't tell you."

And that was it. Clenching his own hands, Ishida leaned forward as he gripped his hips and tilted his head so that his face was directly in front of Ichigo's. "Why the hell not? Stop stalling, Kurosaki and just spit it out already! Or are you really that dense and not comprehend the words coming out of my mouth? Tell me or I'll—"

"I'm not going to tell you, alright?!" Yelling, Ichigo snapped at the other as his fists tightened and he took a step back. "I… I… It's my fault! It's my fault that hollow came and slashed your arm! And its my fault you nearly died and were out of it for a week!" Panting softly as he spoke at a quickened pace, Ichigo began to head towards the door as he turned his back on the other. "Just… Just… Don't worry about it. We'll get your memories back and you will know then. But for now—just… Don't ask… Please."

Ishida simply stared. Blinking in shock, he couldn't believe how the other was reacting to his words—but he wasn't exactly sure if that was normal, either. Lifting a hand, he didn't know if he should be the one apologizing, but for some reason—he felt as though he should. Reaching out to stop the other, he opened his mouth but all that managed to escape him was the name, "Kurosaki—" Before Ichigo left quickly and shut the door behind him.

Arms slowly sliding down and relaxing at his sides, Ishida stared somewhat dumbly at the door in front of him. He wasn't exactly sure how to feel about what had just happened, considering he didn't know—well, he didn't really know anything. He wasn't about to list off what he didn't know, because what he did know seemed to be a much shorter list in his mind, even though he only had two years missing from his memory.

Allowing his breathing to steady, he made his way back towards the bed and sat down slowly on the edge. Resting his elbows on his knees, he placed his face into his palms as he ran his hands slowly through his hair and towards the back of his neck before sliding them around once more to rest his chin on his enclosed fists. There was nothing he could do at the moment, other than sit here and wait. But for what? Surely he lived in the same house as he had been—but did much change that he wouldn't even know his way around? Probably not, but there was still so many blanks it was almost infuriating not knowing what used to fill those empty areas.

Looking up and towards a small calendar which hung limply on the wall, he frowned and brought his legs up and onto the bed as he crossed them gently. Placing his hands on the sides of the bed—he lay back with his legs still crossed—an awkward position, but he found it somehow comfortable.

"Maybe I shouldn't have reacted that way… Even though I have every right to know." He spoke softly to himself, his voice nothing more than a mere whisper. "Although, his reiatsu does feel familiar—even when the others' don't…" Turning his head on the mattress, he glanced towards the door where he felt the hum of reiatsu where the others' most likely still occupied the other room. Everything was so frustrating though, and he wasn't sure whether or not he should just leave without consent and get away from all this. But there wasn't anywhere else to go, really—and he sort of needed them to 'fill him in' on what he 'missed' before he could return to classes and civilization.

Turning onto his side, Ishida lightly curled up as he placed his hands in front of him and stared at the door. He could still feel the reiatsu of the orange haired male—although it was retreating quickly, so he guessed the man must have gone into spirit form so that he wouldn't have to answer anyone else's questions.

Was it really that big of deal, what had happened? Or perhaps it wasn't and he was just teasing the Quincy. Ishida wouldn't really know the difference, after all—seeing as there was a gap where all memories that held the other in them used to be.

Sighing softly, Ishida closed his eyes as he relaxed his body and allowed himself to begin to drift off. He had the strangest feeling that something was wrong, but he wasn't sure if that was just because of what was going on or not. Deciding that, he would just have to wait until later on, when he was getting a hold of his bearings to question this any further—he would rest now and make more sense of this when he left here and began to ask the other questions. After all, he didn't think he was friends with the Shinigami's out there, he couldn't be.

…Could he?

Feeling the drug that was injected into his arm earlier, start to take effect—Ishida let out a soft groan as the pain threatened to return to his shoulder. So, turning onto his other side—he began to drift off into unconsciousness once more as his lidded gaze stared at the door. Hopefully, when he next woke up—things would start to make more sense.

-X-

To be continued.


	2. Chapter 2

Look at me  
Chapter two: To think

-X-

Ishida simply stared. He couldn't believe half of the information he was being given, let alone process it. It seemed as though so much had happened in those small, two years that it could count as anybody's lifetime simply because the contents were so long.

Rukia had come to the world of the living, on a mission due to a high amount of spiritual pressure being emitted in their area. Because of that, she had stepped into Kurosaki's home and without realizing it—was caught due to the fact that Ichigo could see spirits and ghosts. Sometime afterwards; not too long though, a hollow had attacked Ichigo's home after she had tried to explain about hollows to him and began to destroy his house. Because of this, Rukia was injured trying to protect Ichigo and therefore had to give some of her powers to him. Although, somehow he had taken them all—which resulted in Rukia being sentenced to be executed in the soul society; a place where the soul reapers lived.

Somehow, that beginning ended up with them going to save her—why he tagged along, he would never know—them finding out it was really Aizen, a fellow captain of the soul reapers who was behind all of this and then had to go to Hueco Mundo afterwards when that very same captain kidnapped one of their friends, which he was later told was Orihime. Somehow, before that though—they didn't know what happened, but discussed how he had lost his powers while fighting another captain. He already knew the only way that could have happened, which means he had to have used Quincy, Letzt Stil in order to defeat the captain and therefore losing his powers in the progress.

Eventually, the lengthy story ended with Ichigo losing his powers, only to obtain them afterwards and have to defeat the ex-substitute soul reaper who Ichigo had taken's place. All very confusing for the archer, more so because none of them could tell him specifically how he had grown—but he got the gist of it, anyways. Well, at least—he thinks that he understood it.

Letting out a breath, he ran a hand through his hair as he glanced down at the book which sat in front of him on the table. It seemed as though the others cared for him more than he thought, because while he had been passed out and sound asleep, they had taken the time to write—from their own point of view, sections that involved him and everything that happened, so that he could read it and hopefully regain some of his lost memories. The action caused a small smile to tug at the corners of the Quincy's lips, and although it didn't help him regain any memories—he still thought that was considerate of them, and at least he knew the most of what he missed, now.

The only minor details that were missing were his point of view on all of this. How he had felt, how he had trained behind the scenes to regain his powers and not form just one new bow—but two. Rukia had been kind enough to sketch out how his old bow 'Ginrei Kojaku' had looked, and although it wasn't very accurate, some of them said, he did take notice of how it resembled a spider web. And now he had this new bow, one he had yet to test out—seeing as he was unsure how it would feel within his grasp, without the knowledge of him ever training to obtain it, or to use it.

He wanted to know so much more. He felt like a child who just begun to learn a new subject and wanted to know everything here was to know about it. And no matter how hard he tried to read through the contents of what they had written—nothing triggered a memory, nothing seemed familiar.

Shaking his head, another long breath escaped the archer as he closed his eyes and reached beneath his glasses. Using the pads of his fingertips to rub his sore lids, he smoothed his palm over his cheek before resting the side of his face onto his hand as he placed his elbow on the table. All this seemed useless; it hadn't triggered even the smallest spark of a memory, nor did it seem remotely familiar. He often wondered if this was some sort of joke, an experiment that the Shinigami were playing on him—but he knew the human's from his homeroom class. They couldn't have aged so quickly just to play some silly mind game on him… Could they?

No. He refused to believe that. If that was the case, how could they write such detailed information out of nothing? Well, they could have planned this ahead, he mused. But he doubted that was the case.

Crossing his legs from where he sat on the floor of the shop keeper's home, he glanced around the empty room as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. They had all left him alone to either bring his things back to his home for him, go to the soul society to try and come up with some sort of liquid concoction to help get his memories back—or they simply left for some odd reason that Ishida wasn't told about. Leaving him alone with this book, a large platter of food and plenty of water to drink to help nurse him back into good health. Surprisingly, even though he was out for the estimated week—he didn't feel any different, nor shaken up as most people would. In fact, he felt stronger somehow; but he supposed that would be because of the muscles he had gained in the two years he had lost.

His head snapped up quickly as he heard the sound of the door opening from somewhere behind him, and he slowly turned on the small cushion he was currently kneeling upon to glance towards the door. He could feel the hum of familiar reiatsu and instead of calling for the person, he rolled his eyes and shifted back into his previous position as he flipped a page in the book and continued to read. "What do you want, Kurosaki?"

The house remained silent for a moment, and he could tell the other had stopped in his tracks either because he was surprised that the archer was still there, that he was the only one there, or some other reason that Ishida was unaware of. Shaking his head once more, he simply smoothed his thumb and forefinger against the corner of one page as he tilted it upwards to read it at a better angle.

Stepping further into the house, the orange haired Shinigami allowed his shoulders to relax as he moved across the threshold and into the larger living room. Spotting the archer at one of the smaller tables on the floor, he shifted the bag he was currently carrying with him on his arm as his eyes raked over the boy's lithe frame from behind. He wasn't sure, exactly, as to how to answer the man's question. When he had ran home and stayed there for a bit—the thought had just popped up in his mind, and he began to take action immediately. Of course, he wasn't sure exactly how he was going to do it, or how he could get the Quincy to agree to come with him, but it was worth a try, he guessed. Guilt began to stir inside of him the more he stepped closer and the more the slight bulge from beneath the Quincy's shirt came into view. If Ichigo looked closely, he could see each individual wrap of the bandage that he had done himself in hopes that he could help out, even in the slightest, from beneath the archer's clothing. It was his fault after all, and he only wished that there was something he could do to make it up to the Quincy. And, there was. Well—there would be, if his plan would work.

Furrowing his brows as the Shinigami finally decided to move, the archer let out a soft breath once more and slowly closed the book that was laid out in front of him. Turning, only slightly this time, he glanced over his shoulder and looked up at the orange haired male as he raised an eyebrow and reached up to adjust his glasses. "Well?"

Rolling his eyes at the tone in Ishida's voice—Ichigo wasn't surprised in the least to see the archer still had somewhat of an attitude towards him, even with all memories of them together wiped clean from his mind. Closing the last bit of space there was between them, Ichigo leaned down and used his free hand to grip the archer's arm as he tugged him up quickly—forcing the teen to stand. "Come with me." Heading towards the door, he moved briskly so that the boy would have little time to react as they made their way through the shop keeper's home.

As his arm was tugged and he was pulled along with the other, the archer jumped slightly and sputtered as he quickly moved his legs to keep up with the others' fast pace. "K-Kurosaki!" Yelling the male's name, he reached up to adjust his glasses which had gone slightly skewed when he was lifted from his sitting position on the floor, the archer furrowed his eyebrows as he let out a quick breath and attempted to pull his arm away from the teenager's tight grip. "What do you mean, 'come with you'?" Noticing that they had stopped by the door, he stared dumbfounded for a moment before realizing that the other was giving him time to put on his shoes. Well, he wasn't going to until he was given an answer of some sort, or an explanation.

Looking over at the Quincy as he noticed Ishida halted and remained still quite stubbornly, Ichigo's eyebrows furrowed into his traditional scowl as he pointed towards the archer's shoes. "Just put your shoes on, alright? I'll explain after we get there!"

Glaring slightly, Ishida, somewhat reluctantly stepped forward and slid his feet into his shoes. "I don't want you to explain when we get there. How about you at least explain along the wa—" Ishida found that he was cut off. Once he had stepped into his shoes, regardless of the fact that he had a hurt arm, Ichigo simply opened the door and tugged him out and into another direction just as he had tugged the Quincy off of the floor, effectively cutting off the archer's words. Hissing as his shoulder throbbed in pain, he did take notice of the look on Ichigo's face as the teen's grip tightened on his arm. He felt the other slow down his pace as well, and stop for a moment, only to switch sides and grasp his better arm which wasn't injured.

"Sorry about that." Ichigo mumbled softly as he gazed down at the Quincy. He hadn't realized he gripped Ishida's left arm instead of his right, and even though he already felt immense guilt—he was beginning to feel even worse about it. Slowing his pace so that the archer could walk alongside him more easily, he headed towards a small opened field as he gripped the bag lightly in his hand.

"Its fine, Kurosaki…" Ishida spoke quietly as he let out a soft breath. Closing his eyes for a moment, he lifted his right arm which was in the teen's grip so that he could lightly massage his injured shoulder for a moment before dropping his hand to the side. Opening his eyes afterwards, he looked up at the teen as he tilted his head slightly. "Where are you taking me, Shinigami?" He snapped a bit, although he didn't mean to—though he supposed he did so due to the fact that the painkillers he had taken earlier were beginning to wear off. When he received no answer, his eyebrows creased once more in confusion and slight irritation as he let out a small, strained breath and shook his head. "You know, even though I've lost my memories—it doesn't mean that I will believe everything you've all said and told me. I still see you Shinigami as enemies, regardless as to what I may have thought before whatever… incident had occurred. So if you don't tell me, I'm afraid I am going to have to head in the other direction and not trust where you are leading me, Kurosaki."

After the archer had finished speaking, Ichigo stopped walking for a moment to glance down at the male. As chocolate irises met the Quincy's azure colored ones—Ichigo held the gaze for a moment before wordlessly breaking it and looking away as he began to walk once more; tugging the archer along with him.

"K-Kurosaki!" Ishida sputtered, shouting words of protest at the Shinigami as he was continuously dragged into a direction that of course, wasn't unfamiliar to him—however he had no idea as to why Ichigo was taking him there. In fact, once they stepped off of a miniature hill and into an open field—he simply blinked; staring, perplexed as his arm was released and he was allowed to step away from the other male. Walking around for a moment, he glanced around towards where the trees were situated—almost expecting this entire thing to be some sort of ordeal—testing him. And from within the bushes, Shinigami would pop up—seeing as he was so defenceless and weak at the moment, it wouldn't be as if they would have a hard time taking him down… As much as he hated to admit that, it was true.

Turning to face the orange haired teen who simply remained where he had previously stopped—a bag still in one of his hands as he gazed off to the side. Wondering if there was something in that direction instead, he began to move towards the teen—only to stop as Ichigo's head slowly turned to face him and their eyes met once more. Frowning as he gazed over the teen's expression and realized it was giving nothing away, he was the first to break the gaze this time as he looked in the direction Ichigo had been before he glanced at him. There was nothing there, simply the hill they had came down which lead them to the open field that they were standing in now. Allowing his shoulders to slouch in defeat, Ishida slowly folded his arms across his chest as his brows furrowed once more and his glasses began to slide partway down his nose. "Alright, I give up, Kurosaki. Why are we here? And spare me the awkward silence—just cut to the chase."

When Ichigo spoke, Ichigo had began to clench and unclench his fingers which were now clinging tightly to the bag he had brought with him. Sighing softly, he closed his eyes for a moment before looking back to the archer and lifting the pouch in his hand. "Well, this thing isn't really why we're here—but I figured if this scenery didn't work, than I could always show you this and hope that maybe it would trigger something…" Murmuring quietly to himself, he shook his head as an idea arose. "Wait—" Placing the bag down, Ichigo reached into his pocket and began to search for something. Grasping the small string which was attached to the item—he pulled out his substitute soul reaper badge as he held it up for a moment. "Don't get defensive, alright? I'm not going to try anything." When the Quincy's expression became somewhat confused, the Shinigami merely gave a small, half-smile before pressing the badge to his chest and going into spirit form—popping out of his body.

This of course, despite the teen's words caused Ishida to take a step back and quickly raise his hands. He didn't wish to draw his bow—however he knew he most likely did not stand a chance against Ichigo without it; due to the stories he had been told. And even if this was all some sort of trick that they all were playing on him—he didn't want to chance it. That, and a soul reaper was still a soul reaper—fists could not beat a sword.

"I said, 'don't get all defensive'." Despite the fact that this was a serious situation, Ichigo couldn't contain his amusement as a small hint of a genuine smile began to twitch the corners of his mouth, as well as the bright gleam he got in his eye as he shook his head and tried his best not to laugh.

"You say that, yet you are the one who is in the better position, don't you agree—Shinigami?" Ishida glared slightly as his hands clenched into small fists and he squared his shoulders so that he could maintain a better stance.

Frowning, Ichigo reached up and lifted both of his hands—waving the others' words off as he shook his head. "Hey, it's not like I have my weapon drawn. I just want to show you something, alright?"

"Correction, you don't have it drawn _yet _– and what could you possibly want to show me; the other end of your sword?" Eyes hardening, he took a step forward and quickly raised his leg—aiming a kick to the Ichigo's side as he grit his teeth.

Opening his mouth to retaliate—Ichigo found it useless as Ishida lunged. Scowling deeply, instead of blocking the kick and returning the blow like he normally would have—Ichigo simply grabbed the archer's leg— which was surprisingly hard, due to the amount of force Ishida had placed behind it; and pushed it quickly so that the Quincy's back was facing him and turned around, facing his own back to the archer's. "No, you idiot! This is what I wanted to show you." Removing his sword, he merely held it loosely in front of him; doing his best to control his reiatsu so that Ishida would not think he was going to attack him. However, he knew he was awful at controlling his spiritual pressure; always had been, always would be.

Blinking, Ishida glanced over his shoulder quickly as Ichigo's back pressed to his; and although he didn't turn immediately to aim another blow at the man, his shoulders and arms still remained tense as his breathing slowly began to pick up. He could almost hear the sound of his father's voice when they had trained with each other—telling him not to overexert himself unnecessarily—

Wait… When had he trained with Ryuken? A flash of a memory began to drift through the Quincy's mind; causing him to wince and press a palm to his forehead. He realized Ichigo must have heard this, because as he closed his eyes and clenched them shut tightly—he could feel hands touching the sides of his arms and a soft voice repeating his name.

He had… Trained with Ryuken, to obtain his powers again. That was right—it was an odd memory to regain, however he could see it clearly now. How Ryuken had taken him beneath the hospital, and into an underground training center—aimed countless arrows in his direction until he had finally given up and had been defeated; after that, he wasn't sure what had happened; but he supposed it did not matter because in the expansion of the memory he did have, he had blacked out afterwards and awoken sometime later with his powers intact. It surprised him how that one thought, this one simple action had caused such a spark in his memory—but he was thankful nonetheless and let out a shaky breath as he slowly began to open his eyes.

"Kurosaki…"

"Ishida?" Hearing the other speak his name caused him to lean his head over the archer's shoulder to get a better look at the raven haired teen's face. "Are you alright?" Hands tightening slightly before loosening his grip once more, Ichigo stepped around the archer so that he was facing the teen as he continued to watch the male's expression for any signs of pain. However, when Ishida's eyes opened and looked up at him in full—he hadn't expected the sudden content expression to grace the Quincy's features as Ishida smiled, if only slightly and almost unnoticeable—but a smile nonetheless. "…Ishida?"

"Whatever you did, Kurosaki—it caused me to remember something." Shaking his head, Ishida lightly smoothed his palm over his forehead before gliding it down to his cheek before resting his arm at his side. Eyes softening, he looked up at the teen only to notice Ichigo's shocked expression and quickly furrowed his brows. "Kurosaki?"

Snapping out of his thoughts as Ishida spoke, Ichigo's mind slowly began to click and make connections—processing what Ishida had said as he looked down at the other male. "You remembered something? Like—part of your memories?" Leaning a bit closer, he hadn't meant to start clenching onto Ishida's arms once more, but for some reason, he couldn't help it. "What was it? What did you remember?"

Blinking, Ishida lightly gritted his teeth before forcing out a small chuckle at the tone in Ichigo's voice. "You seem… Happier about this than I am." That sentence caused a light flush to form on the Shinigami's face in front of him—also making Ishida slightly confused as he raised a questioning eyebrow. However, he didn't voice any thoughts aloud as Ichigo slowly relaxed his grip on the archer's hold and pulled away; in fact, he remained silent for a couple minutes as he rubbed the sides of his arms and looked up at the Substitute.

"W-Well… You are my friend, you know?" Ichigo scowled slightly as he looked away. "You may not see me as your friend right now—or even admit it at all, with or without your memories; but I still consider you one of my friends. So… Of course I'd be happy that you remembered something." Mumbling the last few words, Ichigo let out a soft breath and closed his eyes before turning his head to face the archer once more and looked down upon the Quincy. "S-So… What did you remember?"

Opening his mouth to tell the other that, what he said was cheesy and stupid—the Quincy merely closed his mouth as the boy continued and relaxed his stance. He hadn't realized he was still tense from earlier, but as the other continued to speak—he realized how… Relieved he felt, after being brought here, getting into that situation which caused his adrenalin to rush—only to remember something in which he had forgotten. Really, if he would admit it aloud—he really did owe Ichigo for this. But he would say no such kind words until he found out from the other how he had lost his memories in the first place.

Shaking his head, Ishida looked up at Ichigo as he reached up and adjusted his glasses with his index finger; pushing them up the bridge of his nose. "Well, for some reason I remembered how I had regained my powers… Which, I am thankful for—considering no one could tell me how that happened, due to the fact that it was a more… Private, memory." Smiling a bit sheepishly, Ishida continued to gauge the others' expression as he spoke.

"…How you got your…" Ichigo trailed off slowly as he watched the Quincy. He wouldn't admit it—but he had actually brought Ishida here, directly—in hopes he could remember something about him. The faster he got Ishida to remember what had happened between them, the more likely it was that Ishida wouldn't be as upset with him for what had happened to cause him to lose his memories in the first place. That was why he chose here of all places. The exact place that he and Ishida had been forced to fight, back to back against the surrounding hollows due to the hollow bait Ishida had released. The place where they had first encountered a Menos Grande and Ishida had saved his life, even when the cost of his hands were so high. He was hoping Ishida would remember that all—that was why he had gone into spirit form to make it more realistic—even stood in the exact same spot and position, just hoping that it would trigger something, anything.

He supposed he shouldn't be disappointed, even though he actually was. Ishida was still remembering something of himself—which was best, so that he wasn't as skeptical of everyone else and could relax a bit more. Ichigo didn't know the feeling of forgetting one's memories; and he hoped he never would—however it didn't mean he couldn't guess. Yes, it was most likely irritating at times, scary and most likely confusing. That's why he should be happy that Ishida had regained such a memory, because it would make him feel better; right? Right. Although… This just meant that getting Ishida to trust him would have to wait a little longer. Not until he remembered significant things that had happened between them—could tell Ichigo that he didn't completely hate him; so that he could confess and finally get this sense of guilt off of his chest. He didn't want to bother Ishida now, while he had no memories and tell him—for he wasn't sure what sort of reaction he would get.

Anger, most likely. And that wasn't something that was healthy, nor safe for Ishida to feel while in his current situation.

"Kurosaki?"

Hearing his name being called, Ichigo blinked as he realized Ishida had actually been trying to get his attention for the last couple of minutes. Scowling, he gripped Ishida's wrist of the hand which was currently waving in front of his face, and set it down slowly as he glanced down at the archer. "Sorry about that, was spacing off."

"I could tell." Ishida said, slight amusement in the tone of his voice—despite the fact that his eyes were hard and still glaring in the slightest. "Now, as I said about five times as you were daydreaming—could you please lead us back to the shop; or do I have to go there myself? Knowing me, even though my memory is much worse than yours at the moment, I could find it a lot faster and get there quicker." Speaking somewhat smugly, Ishida adjusted his glasses as he turned and began to walking towards the hilltop.

Opening and closing his mouth, somewhat like a fish—Ichigo simply scowled deeper as he couldn't come up with anything to say. Turning quickly, he followed after the archer as the boy walked up the hill; and quickly moved back into his body, before setting his badge back into his pocket and his bag back onto his arm. As Ishida turned to face him, an eyebrow raised as he glanced down at the item Ichigo held—the Shinigami merely waved a hand with a small smile. "This was just in case you didn't remember anything here… I think that you've been through enough for today." When Ishida's mouth opened to protest, he reached forward and covered Ishida's mouth with his palm. "And I don't care if you want to remember as much as you can in one day, it's not healthy and in the back of your mind—I know you know that." As Ishida's brows merely furrowed and he narrowed his eyes; Ichigo felt no movement of the archer's lips against his hand, signaling his was speechless. So, slowly—he removed his palm from Ishida's face and grinned in the slightest as he began to move up the hill. "I'll show it to you tomorrow, alright?"

Staring for a moment, Ishida let out a soft breath as he closed his eyes. Adjusting his glasses once more, he began to follow after the Shinigami as they headed towards the shop, in another direction. Opening his eyes to watch the soul reaper who's hands were stuffed into the pockets on his jeans—Ishida's eyes couldn't help but wander to the bag as he frowned. Ichigo certainly had put a lot of thought into this, during the short period of time he had left the shop the other day. It made Ishida wonder just how badly the other had been to him—or just how responsible he was for Ishida's injury. And although he wanted to ask, for some reason he felt as though he was indebted to the male for bringing him here today—which made him not want to question things and wait patiently for tomorrow.

Letting out a soft breath, Ishida closed his eyes as he became drowsy and slightly light headed. He wished they would arrive at the shop soon; he really needed to take another pain killer. He hadn't noticed that he had been swaying slightly, until his shoulder brushed against Ichigo's and actually remained against it as he moved at a slower pace.

"Ishida?"

He could hear the sound of Ichigo's voice—but not entirely register it as his name. Mumbling a soft "Hm?" As his eyes fluttered partway open, he glanced up as much as he could to look over at Ichigo while his head lulled to rest on the teen's shoulder. Instead of receiving an answer, he felt the world leave his feet as he was suddenly lifted in the air—although he didn't know why. But somewhere, in the back of his mind, something was telling him that Ichigo had picked him up and was taking him towards his room at the shop, where he would be placed on his bed. And although he so badly wanted to protest to this, and get up and walk on his own—he found he had no strength to do so, and simply remained in place. He didn't know when, exactly, he had fallen asleep in Ichigo's arms. All he could remember was how his last thought had been how he truly owed Ichigo, and would make it up to him somehow; whether he wanted to or not.

-X-

To be continued.


	3. Chapter 3

Look at me  
Chapter three: To practice

-X-

"I-I'm not going to do it!"

"But Ishida-_Kun_!" The female's voice whined as her lower lip stuck out in a pout.

"D-Don't 'Ishida-Kun' me! I'm not going to do it!" He huffed and pouted just as equally and effectively back, reaching up to adjust his glasses.

"Ishida…" The male hesitated. "I think you should do it."

"Not you too, Sado-Kun!"

"But you'll feel better if you do it!"

"But I don't _want _to do it! W-What if it feels weird…"

"Why would it feel weird?" The female asked, her head tilting to the side.

"B-Because! Because…" Trailing off, the Quincy let out a small breath as he closed his eyes. For the past hour or so, he had been going downhill as his mood changed from the previous day—drastically. At first he had been in a good mood, but after time had progressed he had begun to feel a bit down. However, when they had mentioned his bow and arrow, saying how strong he had gotten and how much he had truly honed on his skills; he had brightened up almost immediately. But now they were trying to get him to conger up his bow, so that he could both see it and feel it with his own eyes—since losing his memory.

And this is where he had begun to refuse. He didn't want to use a bow that he did not deserve. Seeing as he had to have gone through not one—but two crosses before it, it would not be fair to the weapon, seeing as he wasn't _technically _its owner. The master of the Quincy bow was but the self he had lost—not himself now. As odd as it seemed, he felt… Wrong, using a bow that he had not remembered gaining nor using before. It almost felt like he would be stealing or some other illegal type of thing—although he knew that wasn't the case. So he set aside any thoughts of using his bow for now, even if he so desperately wanted to see it.

Frowning, the archer glanced towards his wrist, turning his hand so that his palm faced upwards and the cross on the end of the chain rest gently within his grip. Smoothing over the cool metal with the pad of his thumb, the archer glanced upwards to see his friends looking down at him expectantly and he shook his head. "No. Not until I at least remember something about it. It wouldn't feel right using it at this time."

He could hear the breaths and huffs of annoyance escape the others, but he ignored it and lightly clenched his hand—wrapping his fingers around the cross as he did so. Standing slowly, Ishida allowed his eyes to slip close once more as he shoved his hand into his pocket and stepped away from the floor cushion he had previously been situated upon. He could feel the atmosphere in the room change, and although his eyes were closed so he could not see, he could tell that the others were shooting him worried glances from the other side of the room.

"Don't worry about it." He spoke quietly, lifting his lids so that he could open his eyes. Allowing the softest and smallest of smiles to grace his features, Ishida's head tilted to the side and he relaxed his stance. "I'm sure I'll remember everything there is to know, that I've forgotten—right?"

Watching as the orange haired female and the taller male nodded slowly, his eyes softened as he gazed upon them. How—he wondered; how did he go from being anti-social and wandering the school all by his lonesome, to having such dedicated friends as these. Perhaps that was within the memories that he had lost, but for some reason—he felt as though he knew, deep down; just from within each beating pulse of his heart, almost as if it were sending him an incomplete message.

"I know you'll remember everything! Because Ishida-Kun is the smartest person I know, so Ishida-Kun knows how to work hard and get his memories back!"

Feeling the apples of his cheeks heat up as the female spoke, Ishida reached up to rub the back of his neck—only to slide his hand over his still sore shoulder as his smile returned and a nervous chuckle escaped his parted lips. "Y-Yeah… Thank you, Inoue-San." Watching as she gave a smile and an enthusiastic nod, he turned to glance at the other male, only to see him nodding his approval as well and holding up his thumb.

He had to admit, it was nice to have encouragement while going through all this. He knew that if he had woken up on his own—he would have been in a lot of trouble if he had thought he was fifteen and entered the school as a seventeen year old. Not only that—if he had ran into a hollow before that, he would have had difficulties; especially if he had used his bow and arrow. Although, that wasn't the case—and he most likely would never had to have worried about that sort of thing happening. As it was, apparently Ichigo was the one who had brought him back to the shop to be healed. And, although he didn't know why—because the teen had yet to tell him what happened—the man had rushed rather quickly and even left the unfinished hollow in an abandoned field before dropping him off and going back to defeat it. He supposed that if he gave the orange haired male time, he would eventually tell him what went on that day, and for now he would simply have to wait patiently for that day to come.

Reaching up, Ishida waved one of his hands towards his two friends as his smile returned and he began to move towards the door. "I am going to go out for a bit of fresh air." He spoke softly as he reached towards the door knob and placed his palm upon it to grasp the cool metal.

"Okay, Ishida-Kun! Just be careful! Don't wander too far! Oh—and look both ways before crossing the street and—"

Ishida let out a muffled bit of laughter as he watched Sado press his palm over the women's lips to stop her from speaking. Giving the male an appreciative glance, he watched as the taller male nodded and turned his head back down to face the female. "I will, Inoue-San. Do not worry about me." Watching as her shoulders slowly relaxed and she gave a small nod from behind the hand which was on her mouth; he gave the two one final glance before pulling the door open and exiting the shop.

Shutting the door behind him, Ishida allowed a soft breath to escape his parted lips as he stepped out and into the fresh air. He loved the fact that his friends were being so persistent, trying to get him to both feel better, and remember all that he had lost; however there were some points in time that he wished he could simply relax on his own, without worrying about any of those things. Kind of like what he was going to do now. Simply wander the streets of Karakura and allow his feet to guide him, rather than going anywhere specific. Besides, it wasn't as if he were going to get into any trouble; he had thought everything over. In fact, he imagined every scenario he could think of, be it some large bully that he wasn't aware he did anything to, up to an Arrancar or an Espada. He would be prepared if he had to fight, he wouldn't let his memory loss make him any more weak than he already was. Well, if he could point out Espada's and Arrancars anyways… Inoue and the others had given him a pretty good description; however they did also say that sometimes they hid their hollow mask, which would make them hard to pick out from a crowd of normal Shinigami's. Well, aside from their white uniforms of course.

Sighing softly, Ishida placed both of his hands into his pockets this time, as he took a left turn and began walking up a small hill. Following a familiar dirt path, he smiled softly to himself as he eyed the ground he was walking upon. Maybe he shouldn't have been so reluctant earlier, and have tried out his bow like the others had suggested. It wasn't that he couldn't use it—it would most likely know on its own that this was his hand, therefore making it so that he could use it with ease. But, he was also wary as to what it might look like—how big was it, how many arrows did it shoot all at once? Would he dislike it, or would he prefer it to the ones he had lost, without even being aware of it? Well, he actually did remember his second bow, now—seeing as the memories training with Ryuken had brought forward, in the night; other memories such as him using his new bow at home, all by his lonesome. But still… none of Hueco Mundo where he supposedly helped to save Orihime, none of the Espada battles he had faced and helped destroyed. Nothing else…

Shaking his head, Ishida glanced upwards and towards the sky as he stopped for a moment and tilted his head back. Watching as a lone bird flew past, overhead—he slid his left hand out of his pocket and lifted it to shield his eyes from the sunlight. The corners and edges of the Quincy's glasses reflected the sun's rays—and because of that, caused his eyes to be shielded from sight. Taking in a calming breath, Uryu closed his eyes as he simply let himself relax in the sun before hearing a slight shifting sound as well as a soft sneeze.

Blinking out of his stupor, Ishida turned his head as he glanced towards his right. Brows creasing in the slightest, he began to walk once more as he allowed his arms to hand limply at his sides. Trying to get a feel of the area, he began to move downhill and onto a path as he searched out the familiar spiritual pressure. When he finally figured out who it was, he rolled his eyes in the slightest before side stepping off of the path and moving onto the grass to walk down a miniature hillside. Moving quietly so that the other could not hear him, he really was quite upset that the loss of memory somehow affected his reiatsu tracking—but shook that off as he made his way towards the male. Seeing the familiar back to an orange head, for some reason he felt as though it would be amusing to scare the other; so he crept even more quietly as an amused smirk began to grace his features.

"…Kurosaki!" He shouted after a few seconds, quickly smacking his palms down on each of the male's shoulders. Feeling the man jump from beneath his palms—he quickly retracted his arms as he watched Ichigo leap to his feet—only to turn quickly, stumble and fall down the hill.

Squinting an eye and cringing as he watched the boy roll, he didn't know why—but he still couldn't keep himself from laughing; so small fits of giggles began to escape the Quincy's lips. Hearing a snarling and spotting the glare thrown in his direction—Ishida reached up slowly to give a small wave. "Beautiful day, ne?" When the others' lower lip merely stuck out in a slight pout and the male's brows creased into a scowl, Ishida shook his head and began to move down the hill as he caught up to where the other had landed.

Giving a small, sheepish smile—the archer leaned down as he placed a hand onto his knee and extended his other towards the other. Rolling his eyes when Ichigo stared at his hand dumbly, he waved his palm in the teen's face as he spoke slowly. "This, hand. It help you up." Making a motion with his palm, he gripped the air and pulled upwards, before extending the hand once more to the other. When Ichigo rolled his eyes this time and began to mumble something about ' know it all' Ishida couldn't help but speak sarcastically as he began to stand upright. "Fine, I see you don't want my help."

"I-I didn't say that!" Ichigo protested, his head quickly snapping back upwards to face the other—his eyes almost pleading.

Laughing softly once more, Ishida shook his hand and reached down—extending his arm towards Ichigo for the final time this evening. Waiting patiently for the Substitute's palm to take his own—he lightly tugged to help the other up into a sitting position before letting go and dusting his hands off on his pants. Shifting a bit, he moved to the side as he allowed Ichigo room to move and sit cross legged—before looking over and towards the flowing river which lay a few feet in front of them.

"So…" Ichigo began after a while, his voice slightly soft although a slight mutter to it as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. "What was that for?" Looking towards his left and up at the archer, his trademark scowl remained plastered on his face as he let out a small huff.

Rolling his shoulders, Ishida merely gave a small shrug and an 'innocent' smile as he glanced down at the teen. "I don't know. I was out for a walk when I felt your spiritual pressure. And honestly—it's not that hard to sneak up on you. You couldn't track a Menos Grande's reiatsu with your horrible radar!" Throwing his arm up into the air to add emphasis, Ishida shook his head.

Blinking, Ichigo stared—stupefied for a moment, as he watched the Quincy. "I… couldn't?" When the other only gave him a flat look, he shook his head quickly as he sat up straight and shifted on the grass. Eyes widening a fraction in realization, he spoke up. "How did you know that?"

"…" This time, it was Ishida's turn to blink and stare down at the Shinigami with a confused look on his face. "I… Don't know." Furrowing his brows, he looked away for a moment as he watched the sunlight hit the water as his mind began to cloud over in thoughts. He hadn't regained any more memories lately, yet how did he know that? It wasn't written inside the book his friends had made for him… Although they did draw in a picture of a Menos… Sighing softly, Ishida closed his eyes and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Dizziness swept over him—as it always seemed to do when he tried to force his mind to recall thoughts that were no longer floating freely throughout his mind. He could feel the gentle touch of a hand on his shoulder—and he hadn't even noticed that Ichigo had stood up from where he was sitting. Quickly waving the other off with a motion of his hand, he began to sink down in the grass before placing his hands beside himself and sitting back slowly.

"Are you alright?" There was a worried tone to Ichigo's voice as he quickly sat next to the archer and reached up. Stilling his hand as it got halfway towards Ishida's arm—he placed it on the grass next to himself as his furrowed brows slowly transformed from a scowl to a look of worry. Waiting for an answer, he noticed that Ishida's breathing had quickened up in the slightest and—not entirely sure what to do, he slowly and awkwardly moved his hand upwards and over to place it on the middle of the Quincy's back; rubbing it slowly.

"I'm fine…" Mumbling under his breath, Ishida let out an exasperated sigh as he slowly lowered his hand onto his lap and kept his eyes closed. He really wouldn't admit it; however the feeling of Ichigo's hand moving slowly over his back made him relax a bit more—and his breathing began to slow back to its normal pace as well. Opening his eyes a fraction, the archer could feel his glasses begin to slide down his nose as he blew out a soft breath. Looking to the other with slightly flushed cheeks, he could still see the worried look from within Ichigo's eyes and he furrowed his brows. "Why are you so concerned, Kurosaki?"

Blinking, Ichigo was taken aback by the sudden question and frowned as he stilled his hand. Moving his hand onto his lap, he opened his mouth to speak—only to stop himself, close his mouth, before opening it once more. Giving up, he let out a small growl before shrugging quickly and looking away as he began to mumble lightly underneath his breath. "Because," He spoke quietly, deciding to go with the first answer he had come up with, but stopped because he knew it wouldn't be enough for Ishida. "You're my friend." Slowly turning his head back towards the archer, his expression softened. "Am I not allowed to worry about my friends?"

Opening his mouth, Ishida paused briefly before closing his lips, just as Ichigo did earlier and relaxed his shoulders. "No, I suppose you're allowed to." He spoke simply, leaning back a bit more so that his weight was resting on his hands which were now situated in the grass slightly behind him. "But…" Furrowing his eyebrows, Ishida's eyes opened as he stared directly in front of himself, at nothing in particular as he began to think. It was always so difficult, talking about certain things such as this; because to him, he didn't know who his true friends were nor was he able to separate friend from foe. He only had the others and their words to rely on; nothing more, nothing less. Letting out a sigh, Ishida shook his head. "Never mind."

Slightly confused, Ichigo leaned back and let the subject drop as he watched the Quincy begin to relax. Crossing his legs one more, he stared out and towards the flowing river for a couple of minutes as the silence enveloped them. He wasn't sure what had happened there, for a second—but he made a guess and decided that it had something to do with Ishida's loss of memory. And even though Uryu didn't know what happened yet, it made him feel slightly bad about it; knowing that this was his entire fault. But it's not like he could help it—he hadn't meant for it to go that way… He just wanted to help. Shaking his head internally to clear himself of those thoughts—the very thoughts that he had come out here to forget about; he turned back to the archer as his head tilted to the side. "I heard you were with Inoue and Chad this morning—how did that go?"

Blinking, Ishida faced the other as Ichigo spoke to him and stared for a moment as he raised an eyebrow. He wasn't sure what had brought on the sudden subject change, but he supposed he should be thankful for having it—rather than having Ichigo pressure further as to why he had been off not too long ago. Raising a shoulder once more into a slight shrug, he looked forward as he stretched his legs out in front of him and gave a small smile. "They were trying to make me feel better—well, I suppose it worked—they thought that I should take a look at my new bow to see if it would calm me down when I grow frustrated." He wasn't sure why, exactly, he was being so open with the other; but even though he wasn't particularly fond of Shinigami, and also not sure if Ichigo was his friend or not—he couldn't shake that feeling he got which told himself that he could trust the boy. So things just… Slipped out so easily, around him.

Giving a small smile, Ichigo began to rub the lower half of his left arm as he spoke. "Yeah? Did you try it out?"

Furrowing his brows, Ishida glanced back over to the male as he frowned and shook his head. "No. It doesn't feel right, so I haven't tried to yet."

Brows creasing, a perplexed look graced the substitute's features as his head tilted once more. "How do you know it feels weird if you haven't tried it?"

Eye twitching, Ishida let out a huff as he sat up and threw his hands into the air. "Because! I don't know what it looks like, and I don't even remember earning it! It wouldn't feel right using something that I haven't rightfully obtained!"

Holding up his hands in front of him, Ichigo waved them quickly as he sat back a bit. "Alright alright, don't get so worked up about it." When this received him a glare from the other, Ichigo rolled his eyes but smiled slightly, regardless. "But uh… You're saying that you don't want to use it because… You don't feel as though you deserve it?" Trying to understand the archer's reasoning, Ichigo gazed at the other with a serious expression. When Ishida's expression relaxed and the boy remained silent before nodding slowly and looking away—a soft smile spread across Ichigo's lips as he let out a quiet laugh. "Well, I know you don't remember—but that doesn't mean you don't deserve it. I mean—you got that bow for a reason, you obviously trained really hard to get yourself up to the level you are at now. And—even though I probably am not the one who knows you the best, I think that you—or… The Ishida I know, would be mad at himself for denying his own eyes to look at his bow… I mean—you live to prove to others that the Quincy are superior; and each time you fight, it's for the pride of the Quincy, so…" Trailing off for a moment, Ichigo shrugged slightly as he smiled at the other. "I think you'd want to look at it, because you know deep down… that you more than deserve it."

Ishida couldn't believe what he was hearing. Staring at Ichigo as the male spoke, Ishida's eyes took on a concentrated look as he watched Ichigo carefully and glanced down to the cross which hung gracefully from his wrist. Lifting his hand, he stared upon the cold piece of metal—watching as it shone with the setting sun which signalled that nightfall would be soon upon them. He didn't realize that he had been out this late, but for some reason, at the moment—he didn't care. What Ichigo had said, actually made the archer think that it was true. He did, after all—live for the Quincy. Showing that they were much stronger than Shinigami worked them out to be. And, although he knew this was most likely because he had lost his memories—he wondered why Ichigo had sounded so wise, almost as if he knew Ishida better than he knew himself. Frowning, Ishida reached up with his opposite hand—well aware that Ichigo was watching him; and slowly traced his fingertips over the cross on his wrist. It hummed appreciatively and sparked in the slightest as his reiatsu was sent through it and his eyes softened as his entire body began to relax. "Thank you… Kurosaki." Mumbling quietly, he ignored the confused glance that was sent in his direction as he stood.

Shifting a bit, Ishida swayed before regaining his footing, and reaching behind him to dust off the back of his pants. He watched from the corner of his eye as Ichigo stood as well and slowly held out his right arm as he let out a shaky breath. Turning his head to look at the other who was eyeing him silently—he closed his eyes as he slowly clenched the fingers of his right hand and concentrated his reiatsu as his bow formed. A soft gasp escaped Ishida's lips as he felt the smooth surface of his bow from beneath his palm. It was so much different from his previous bow and he almost opened his eyes immediately to get a look at it. However, he wanted to go slowly at first—to get a feel of it, to get used to it, and most importantly—to appreciate it. Turning his head to Ichigo once more, he opened his eyes as his face heated up and a worried expression graced his own features. He watched as Ichigo smiled and gave a small nod before gesturing with his hand to his bow, and he let out another shaky breath before slowly beginning to turn his head.

The sight that met his eyes was a beautiful one to behold. The slim form of his bow, which he made a mental note that it resembled Ryuken's—arched beautifully in his hand. It was a pale white color, and more realistic than his other reiatsu-based ones that he had achieved before. Turning it slowly, a relieved and amazed breath escaped him at the same time as his eyes took in the sight of a cross stretching down from the bow nock, down past the lower limb. "It's beautiful…" He mumbled softly, his eyes shining as he used his other hand to smooth his palm over the object.

Watching Ishida look at his bow for the first time since losing his memories was sort of like watching a kid open a present on Christmas day and finding a new puppy. He felt like he was intruding on a personal moment just being there, but the sight made him smile nonetheless. Chuckling softly as he eyed the dazed expression on the archer's face, he slowly stepped closer to get what was actually a real, good look at Ishida's bow. Normally—he only saw it when Ishida was fighting; which meant that it was always a blurred view due to how fast the Quincy could move. That, and there was always arrows shooting out of it at the speed of lighting, obstructing his view. "Yeah, all your bows are pretty cool." Seeing Ishida's face snap towards him with wide eyes—Ichigo merely stared, baffled before laughing as Ishida's mouth opened into a wide 'o' shape. Did he not think Ichigo liked archery? Just because he was a Shinigami, it didn't mean that he disliked bows and arrows. Or Quincy, for that matter.

Looking down, Ishida slowly lowered his bow as he cleared his throat and shifted on his feet. Glancing up at Ichigo from the corner of his eye, he stared for a moment before mumbling quietly and inaudibly as the soft sound of crickets began to fill the cool, night air.

Tilting his head for a moment, Ichigo strained his neck to hear what the archer was saying—before rolling his eyes as he realized the Quincy was actually embarrassed over his silly little comment. Looking up and towards the setting sun, Ichigo was going to suggest they begin to head back to the shop before a small idea came to mind and he reached down to grasp the archer's wrist. For some reason, the Quincy didn't protest aside from the small surprised sound that escaped the back of his throat—so Ichigo continued to move up the hill and towards another direction. It was near the shop, but not quite there—however he knew Ishida would like it. Going down a couple of miniature bumps and hills in the ground; he came to a stop in the middle of a small grass area—with trees surrounding them from all angles. Ishida gave him a confused glance as he looked back to Ishida, and he smiled as he gestured forwards and pointed to a large oak in the middle of the forest.

Staring at Ichigo blankly for a moment, Ishida slowly leaned to the side to look around the substitute as he eyed the middle of a large tree. Blinking—his eyes stared at a small targeting dart board that was carved deeply into the tree with what could only be a soul reaper's blade. He could see the many slash marks and kido blasts around it—so he assumed that this was where Ichigo had began to train. He wasn't sure why Ichigo brought him here—so he looked back up at Ichigo confused, only for it to hit him as his eyes met Ichigo's encouraging chocolate colored irises and he froze. "No!" Quickly releasing his reiatsu and yanking his wrist from Ichigo's grip—his bow faded and he turned the other way as he began to stomp up the hills. He could see the teen scowl from the corner of his eye and he struggled as Ichigo's hand grasped his elbow this time and began to tug him back.

"Why not?" Ichigo yelled, slightly confused as to why Ishida was protesting. Dragging the teen back towards the tree, he gripped both of Ishida's shoulders tightly—although being careful with the still injured left—and turned Ishida to face the tree as he kept a hold of him. "You know you want to try it out, you know that you deserve the bow—so stop being stubborn and aim an arrow already!"

Snapping his head to look up at Ichigo, he quickly parted his lips to yell back to him—only to be cut off as Ichigo's eyes bore seriously into his own and the teen continued to speak.

"Come on… You know it will make you feel better…"

Slowly, Ishida's protests faded as his mouth closed. Ichigo's voice had been quiet, yet stern as he said that last sentence—which made Ishida falter as he gazed down to his right hand. He wanted to—really he did, but… "What if I miss?" His voice was just below a whisper as his head tilted downwards—the bangs on the right side of his face shielding his eyes.

Confidently, Ichigo didn't even have to think about it as he smiled and released the Quincy—reaching up slowly to place a hand on top of the archer's hair. "Don't worry. You've never missed, and you won't now. Besides—" Looking over slightly so he could gaze into the curtain of black hair which shielded the archer's eyes—he whispered. "You are the last Quincy. You can do anything."

Parting his lips, Ishida's eyes slowly rose as he glanced up into the others' softened gaze. Remaining silent for a moment, he looked passed the other and stared at the target quietly before closing his eyes. A bright light began to form—before replacing said light, was Ishida's bow. Raising it with ease, he didn't need to look at the other to know that Ichigo had stepped aside—and he slowly opened his eyes as he raised his left hand to pull back an arrow and eye the target. A gust of wind blew past him—before the area became quiet. Remaining still for a moment, he exhaled as he squared his shoulders and with the gentle release of his fingertips—

A bullseye.

Letting out a breath, Ishida lowered his bow, although his hand remained holding on for a moment longer—before allowing it to vanish. Ishida felt as though all the tension and confusion that was within him had just been drained—if only temporarily, and he couldn't have felt more at ease. Hearing the sound of Ichigo's feet shifting in the grass and slightly crumbled and fallen leaves—he turned his head to look at the other as the darkness slowly began to fall over them, signaling nightfall. He wasn't sure why he had decided to—or feel the need to say this, but he felt as though it wasn't just for today, but for many things. Looking at Ichigo, and having his gaze locked onto the others'—two words escaped the archer's lips which had caused a genuine smile to grace Ichigo's features.

"Thank you."

-X-

To be continued.


	4. Chapter 4

Look at me  
Chapter four: To fear  
Warning: Again, this is after time skip. Some mentions of the full bringer arc up ahead, but not too detailed. Also, Ichigo's part is very boring… And at the end—Ichigo means, he hopes that Ishida would still trust him if he remembered anything or not.

-X-

Socked feet padded their way across a plush, white carpet. Legs clothed in a loose pair of white pajama pants with a blue string around the waist to tighten them moved swiftly throughout the expansion of the room as they moved up and down, and around furniture. A pale hand tugged lightly on the blue shirt he was wearing, before rolling the long sleeves up to his elbows and tugging gently on the v-neck collar to pull it down a bit more. Letting out a soft breath, azure colored irises glinted from behind their frames as he glanced around the room and turned his head to face both ways as he leaned against the armrest on a medium sized, white couch.

It had taken a bit of convincing towards the others, but after a while they had allowed him to go back to his apartment. Well, really—he had tricked them when he said perhaps something would trigger his memories there, so immediately afterwards, they brought him to his home and left him there overnight. He had to admit, even though he only lost two years of his memory; a lot of things seemed to change over the years. His older, more cream colored couch was replaced with a softer looking white one. The smooth wooden floorings now had a miniature, circular shaped rug upon them. And as for the kitchen and bedroom—he had yet to look, seeing as once he came home, he plopped down on the oh-so-comfortable couch and fell asleep there for the entire night and half of the next day.

Smiling softly, Ishida smoothed his palms against the soft material of his pants as he reached up with one hand to adjust his glasses and take a better look around the room. All his books remained in place, in the corner of the room on a large, wooden shelf—and he couldn't help but smile at seeing the added book his friends had made him bring with him; the one containing his lost memories that they had tried so very hard to write down. As it was, the first thing Uryu worried about, when coming home—was how he would prepare for school. But apparently, his friends had also thought that far ahead and said he had injured not one—but two of his legs, plus his writing hand, so he could not go in to class. He thought that was absurd, and wouldn't fool the teachers; but apparently it had. Oddly enough, they also knew _he _wouldn't accept that—so instead of being out of school entirely until he was 'healed'—his friends would be able to bring him all class notes and homework for him to do and give back to them, so they could hand it in the next day.

Really, instead of being amazed by how his friends had thought so far ahead—he ended up being a bit skeptical and slightly perplexed at the same time. Well, he supposed it was only natural when you care so much for one person, that you do all you can to help them. But, being who he was—he hadn't really, technically experienced true friendship. Of course, he had those in the past he had been attached to, but never to this extent. Ever since childhood, he always preferred to stay indoors during recess, go to different clubs that would allow him to work independently, rather than with others and all sorts of things. So really, he liked to separate himself from others and the outside world—not entirely, no; just so that he could be by himself. After all, he understood himself the best, just as it was with everyone. That, and there was also how he was slightly awkward socially, and never really wanted to make friends due to fearing that when he opened his mouth, something stupid might come out. But that was something he'd never openly admit to.

But he supposed that was in the past, not the present. He had grown a lot since then, and although he still preferred to be alone—he supposed it wasn't too bad being surrounded by a small group of people that seemed to care very much for him.

Letting out another quiet breath, Ishida closed his eyes as he pushed himself off the arm of the couch. Moving towards his bookshelf, he paused for a moment upon spotting a familiar bag resting in front of it. "Isn't this the bag Kurosaki had brought with him?" He murmured quietly as his head tilted to the side. He wondered if it was left there on purpose—but seeing as when the others had brought him here, he was in a rush to kick them out and get reacquainted with his home, Ichigo could have dropped it there by accident and not have been able to pick it back up…

Stepping closer to the bag, Ishida slowly leaned down and stretched out his arm. Stopping part way, his fingertips merely an inch away from the bag's handles—he pursed his lips into a thin line as he stood up straight and shook his head. No, it wouldn't be right to go through Ichigo's things, even if he was curious. Of course, Ichigo had said it would help—or he hoped it would help, Ishida regain his memories; but it was still Ichigo's property nonetheless and although Ishida hated Shinigami, he wasn't about to stoop low to their level and not care about what he was getting into. Shaking his head, Ishida closed his eyes once more as he instead turned to face rows upon rows of his favorite books with a smile. Reaching forward, he allowed his fingertips to brush against the spine of an unfamiliar book, and with curiosity—he hooked his finger onto it and slowly slid it out of the shelf.

It was a new book, one he had heard about coming out late in the fall. He supposed that since he had lost his memories, it had already came out and just as he suspected—he had bought it because he had been interested in it and wanted to read it. Flipping through, he let out a soft chuckle as his eyes met the blue and white bookmark poised in between a couple of pages, signaling that this was where he had left off. So very badly, he wanted to read it—but he knew he couldn't just continue from there because he would have no recognition of even buying the book, let alone starting it.

Clicking his tongue, the Quincy turned the book over and began to read the back as he made his way towards the kitchen. Deciding that it wouldn't hurt to start it over again from the beginning, he would first have to deal with a small, growing problem as the sound of low growling from his stomach reached his ears.

Lifting his leg to walk up a small step, he pushed the kitchen door open and stepped inside. Immediately, his nose picked up the familiar scent of his favorite food, and lowering his arm, he sniffed and blinked as he glanced towards the counter and spotted a small pot—covered and wrapped tightly in the middle of his kitchen counter. Furrowing his eyebrows, Ishida approached cautiously, almost like a lion watching its prey. When he stepped up in front of the counter and spotted a small card along with the bowl of freshly made Mackerel Miso stew—the archer quickly snatched it and flipped it open to read through its contents.

_Thought you might be hungry, seeing as you haven't eaten in a while. And yes, I saw you scrape your food into the garbage at Urahara's; don't think you can fool me. Jeez, you're as stubborn without your memories, just like you are with them!_

_And uh, don't worry—I didn't make it. My sister Yuzu did, so it's not poisoned. But it's your favorite, right?_

_Kurosaki Ichigo_

Ishida stared for a moment, dumbfounded. How did the other know that this was his favorite? No—more importantly, how did he get caught throwing out his food? Yes, he had done that—but not for the reasons one would think. He… Wasn't hungry back then, because he had pushed all thoughts of food out of his mind until he had began to regain his lost memories. Foolish, he was aware of that—but eating seemed to be the least important thing on the Quincy's to do list. He hadn't meant to throw it out, it was just that each time they went to eat, he had brought the book they had made to the table and began to read it over and over repeatedly; in hopes he missed something and as his eyes would take in the words, it might trigger a memory. Of course, it was no use and he never remembered anything—but he didn't want to stop trying. And because of this, he had always taken too long with the book, that when he was finished, his food had gone cold and it wasn't really edible anymore.

It didn't really matter, in his opinion. Yes, he had lost a little bit of weight, but due to other things distracting him up until now—he hadn't actually processed the thought of being hungry, therefore never was. But for some reason, the thought bugged him—how Ichigo had not only been the one to notice, but also had been the one to do something about it _and _provide him with his favorite food.

Huffing lightly, Ishida blew out a breath which caused some strands of his hair to float upwards for a moment. Reaching up to adjust his glasses, he turned and was about to make his way around and stomp out of the room when a low, long, eerie growl rumbled through his stomach—causing him to pause and place a hand on his lower abdomen. "Fine!" He gave in to himself, turning back around and quickly shuffling towards the food. Instead of using a bowl and separate utensils; he merely lifted the pot into his hands, along with a few napkins and a spoon, before making his way out of the kitchen and back into the living room.

Moving towards the couch, Ishida slowly sat himself upon it as he crossed his legs and set the pot down on his lap. Reaching to his left, he picked up a small remote and slowly turned on the television, making it so that the volume was down low while he began to eat. Reaching down, Ishida hooked the tips of his fingers onto the pots' handle and lifted it gently. Taking in the scent of the freshly cooked food caused his mouth to salivate in approval and his cheeks to heat up as a small smile made its way to his lips. Placing the spoon inside of the broth—he lightly lifted a bit to his lips and blew on the steaming concoction as he closed his eyes. For a moment, when he placed the spoon to his lips; he felt that familiar, nostalgic sensation of when his sensei used to create this sort of dish for him. It was odd, but he supposed it was simply because those memories were most dominant—and thinking this made him quite thankful that he had only lost two years of his memories, and not them all.

Sighing softly, Uryu placed the spoon into his mouth and gently began to slurp it as he chewed on the fish chunks. Opening his eyes as the colors flashed on the TV, he tilted his head for a moment before shaking it at the idiotic child's show that was playing, and turned back to his food. However, seeing as the silence in the room seemed to make him feel off, he began to grow uncomfortable for no apparent reason. Really, he was used to being alone—preferred it even. So it confused him when he felt so uneasy with the current atmosphere around him. Turning his head as he lowered the spoon back into the pot, he frowned as he eyed the bag that Ichigo had left here. How many times would he have to tell himself not to look in it, and that it was none of his business?

Multiple, it seemed—considering within that short period of time where he was thinking, he had already set the pot down beside him and stood, now currently making his way over to the bag in the corner of the room. Biting his lower lip, he paused in the same position as earlier—half bent at the waist, arm extended and fingertips an inch away from grasping the handles.

Why was it so hard to say no, and ignore whatever contents were in the bag? Was it really that important that he couldn't keep his hands off of it? It didn't really seem like a bad idea to look at it, if he thought about it. After all, Ichigo had said it was a back-up plan to help restore his memories, did he not? So it wouldn't hurt any, to look at it…

Grabbing the handles, Ishida growled internally at his decision—but he couldn't help but feel as if it was the right one to chose. Making his way back over to the couch, he sat down quickly upon it and tipped the bag upside down as he allowed the contents from within it to drop onto his lap. Tossing the bag in front of him and onto a nearby table—he glanced down quickly, only to blink in confusion. A large, scrap-like book was sitting in his lap, a blank cover with no words written on it and so very unlike the book the others had created for him. Frowning, Ishida's brows creased in the middle of his forehead as he allowed his palm to slide over the smooth cover. He could feel Ichigo's reiatsu surrounding the item, which made him wonder if this was something the teen had decided to make on his own. Allowing himself to relax, Ishida slowly slid his index finger between the cover of the book to flip it open. Leaning back as he did so—he blinked as his eyes met a photo in the front—not just of himself, but of the others around him as well. Underneath the photo, written as neatly as the person could have, was;

_It may not be much, but let's hope this helps. After all, what's stronger than an enemy that makes you lose your memories? Friends that are here and willing to help you regain them, of course. _

Letting out a soft breath, Ishida's expression softened as he smoothed his fingertips over the handwritten words. Had Ichigo made this in hopes he could help on his own? If so, why had he gone to such an extent, instead of simply writing what he knew into the other book they had given him? Whatever it was, Ishida didn't know; but it also made him wonder what could have happened to make Ichigo feel so guilty enough to do this sort of thing, among the other things he had already done for the Quincy—on his own.

Flipping the page, Ishida continued to eye the variety of photo's within it. Each one had a caption, a description—and a brief summary of what had happened before the picture had been taken. Normally, Ishida would have been wary of seeing himself so… open with people he hardly knew. However, that was not the case—and for some reason, as certain pictures met his eyes; he couldn't stop the smile from forming on his face as he shook his head gently and resisted the urge to laugh. After a while, when Ishida was reaching the end of the book—he paused as he met a blank page with a single word upon it.

_Sorry. _It read, nothing more, nothing less. The archer didn't know what it was, but for some reason his insides felt a little uneasy and his heart began to slow its pace. Something bad was placed in this book as well—some things that Ishida hadn't been told first hand. He could tell, and without looking; he touched the pages left over, and realized that there was only one—with words on it, no pictures. Was this where Ichigo was going to tell him what happened? On the next page, if he were to flip it—would he be able to read what had happened during the fight which caused him to lose his memories? He didn't know, and wasn't exactly certain, but he felt as though continuing would answer questions that he hadn't had answers to.

So, with a shaky breath, Ishida closed his eyes before gripping the final page and flipping it over. Opening his eyes slowly, Ishida allowed them to remain half-lidded as he gazed upon the title. It read, 'Memories I always wished you'd forgotten—kind of seems like I jinxed it, now.' This caused Ishida's heart to sink, and although he didn't know why—his shoulders tensed. Moving his gaze passed the title and downwards, he began to read through certain events that had happened—that didn't seem like a big deal to him.

How Ishida had risked his arms to save Ichigo after attacking the Menos. How Ishida had argued with Ichigo before defeating the full bringer Ginjou—he supposed Ichigo felt bad for kicking him in his rear end, which caused him to snort. Each memory he read through, which had been left out for who knows what reasons, he couldn't help but relax with each one he glanced through, thinking nothing of them. If Ichigo felt bad for these, that probably meant what had happened with the hollow was no big deal. Why couldn't Ichigo just tell him what happened then? Ishida knew it wasn't likely he would get mad. Besides—

Pausing in thought as Ishida moved to close the book; he noticed there was one final thing written on the back of the page. Curious, he flipped it over, only to realize it was one final memory and he quickly threw the book away as the memory flashed from within his eyes.

He could almost feel it, the scolding pain of a sword being stabbed through his chest. He could almost see his own hand—as he rose it to his face—dripping with blood from where he had gripped his wound. He looked, wide-eyed into the memory that was Ichigo in full, hollow release form—stabbing Zangetsu into his chest, as Orihime began to scream the teens name in the background. Watching slowly as Ichigo roared—he fell to his knees as he slid off the couch and coughed erratically as he gripped his shirt tightly with his left hand. Realization slowly hit him as the memory began to fade—and he lay panting on the floor for a moment; holding himself up with one shaky hand on his knees. He didn't even notice that the TV had switched to a new show as he slowly sank down onto the floor and turned to lie on his back.

Ichigo had… tried to kill him? No, that couldn't be it. There was something missing—the beginning of that memory, and the end. Ishida looked down slowly, raising his left hand to see it clear from the imaginary blood and he couldn't help but let out a relieved breath as he clenched his fingers into a light fist. Closing his eyes, the Quincy swallowed as he willed his breathing to slow back to its normal pace, as he stretched his legs out slowly in front of him and dropped his arm to his side. So that's why it hadn't been put in the other book… Ichigo must have feared the Quincy's reaction, therefore asked the others to leave it out. Well, it was either that, or he wanted to be the one to tell Ishida himself, which Ishida could tell, that was reasonable. Opening his eyes, Ishida gazed up at the ceiling—trying to make sense of it all, with the little details the memory had provided. It seemed as though something had happened before hand—seeing as he also noticed one of the Espada in the background, as Ichigo had stabbed him. Also, his hand had been hurt before that… So he had to have been engaging in some sort of battle. Perhaps when Ichigo's hollow took over, he couldn't control his senses and saw Ishida as a threat?

Shaking his head, Ishida decided that it was no use thinking over these things. His head throbbed as a headache began to form, due to the fact he was straining himself once more. Looking over, he also noticed that a bit of blood began to leak through both his shirt and the bandages beneath it—due to him falling onto the floor and over exerting himself again. Sighing, Ishida slowly sat up, placing his right hand behind him on the table so he could get to his feet. He already had doubts of trusting Ichigo and the others, and although this memory should have made him feel as though his thoughts were correct—he couldn't help but contradict himself and begin to realize that, that wasn't the case. These were real memories, returning to him and whether he liked them or not, they had happened. He supposed that he could always ask Ichigo later—more about his hollow and how he was able to control it. Also, he could gather a bit more information on what had happened in Hueco Mundo, which could clear up his doubts as well.

But for now, he needed to settle down and relax—so that he wouldn't exhaust himself once more and grow weak. _Perhaps a hot bath would help_—he mused to himself as he made his way towards his bedroom. A look around the house, a bath and change of bandages would most likely calm him down enough so that he could take another nap. That, and it would clear his thoughts so he could think more level-headedly, instead of having all these scrambled assumptions within his brain. Deciding that, that was best—he gave a nod to himself internally as he reached his bedroom door and extended his good arm forward so that he could open the handle and make his way inside.

-X-

Sighing, a tanned chin rested within the palm of his hand as chocolate colored irises gazed helplessly out the window. A bored expression graced the substitute's features as he watched the wind pick up and create a rippling, quite like waves—across the tops of the trees. He had been like this all day, not being able to concentrate on his current class, due to the fact that he was still preoccupied with what had happened the other day, as well as this morning. He knew he should feel relieved that Ishida had been content with what had happened the other day, due to the fact he seemed overly happy about using his bow and arrow—but after this morning, he couldn't help but feel as though something bad might happen… Like he had forgotten something.

Another breath escaped the teen and slowly, Ichigo closed his eyes. Maybe it was just him being overly cautious now that Ishida was regaining his memories little by little? Whatever the case, he knew it wasn't something he should be so worked up about, considering Ishida was taking this all rather well—when really, Ichigo expected the Quincy to demand answers out of him, rather than wait for them. But then again, this was Ishida without his memories. Would it be any different if Ishida had remembered what had happened, but simply forget other things? No… He bet Ishida would still be acting the way he was now, perhaps a few things would be different, but not many.

Opening his eyes once more, Ichigo leaned back in his seat as he allowed his hand to drop onto his desk. The day was almost over, and it was his turn to give Ishida his homework—so he supposed he really should have been paying attention. It wasn't his fault though, the thoughts of what had happened never seemed to go away, and as much as Ichigo preferred them not to have happened, there was nothing he could do to change the past; he could only learn from it, as so many others had said, and be prepared for the future.

Ichigo rolled his eyes at that thought. If that were the case, someone should have time travelled and told him back then, rather than him learning from it now. Shifting on his chair, Ichigo stretched out his legs from underneath the desk and looked back to the window. He hoped that Ishida's memories would return soon… And although he wanted that for a selfish reason, he knew deep down that he also wanted Ishida to get them back so that he could be happy as well. It was odd, seeing Ishida act like this, day by day—almost as if it was another person, but not entirely. Yes, he knew that didn't make sense, but just something about how Ishida was acting seemed different, but he knew that it was the same Quincy he had always known.

Allowing his eyes to slide close once more, the tips of Ichigo's eyelashes rested gently on the upper half of his cheeks as he allowed himself to relax. It was no use worry about any of this, because Ishida was a big boy and could handle himself quite well on his own. The archer didn't seem to be depressed like most people were, nor did he seem incapable of doing anything on his own. So, in actuality—Ishida was being stronger than was necessary throughout all of this, whereas Ichigo, who wasn't even the one injured—was worrying far too much about this, for nothing.

"Ichigo…"

Feeling the slight nudge to his shoulder caused the teen's brows to knit into a slight scowl as he opened his eyes. Blinking at the familiar voice though, his expression softened as he looked up at the taller male and tilted his head back to get a better look at him. "What is it, Chad?" When the male simply gestured towards the clock and placed a pile of papers on his desk, he stared for a moment, stupefied, before shaking his head and allowing a small smile to grace his features. "Thanks…"

Not only had he not noticed the bell had rang, but he had also forgotten to jot down the notes that Uryu would need to do the work. Thankfully, his friend had saw this—and actually wrote down everything he had for Ichigo to give the other teenager. He kind of felt guilty, and wanted Chad to take the work to Ishida, seeing as he had been the one to gather it—but when he next looked up, the male was waving at him and walking out the door.

Shaking his head, Ichigo stood slowly—his chair squeaking as the back of his legs pushed it outwards. Reaching down, he slowly picked up his bag and sat it on his desk as he unzipped the top of it. Gathering the papers, he put them in a side pouch so that they wouldn't get mixed up with the others; before closing the bag and tossing it over his shoulder.

Stepping aside, Ichigo pushed in his chair as he made his way out of the classroom; turning his head to glance over his shoulder as he reached the doorway he gave the room one final glance. A small frown slowly formed on the corners of Ichigo's lips as he eyed the Quincy's empty desk, and wordlessly—he exited the room, and then the school.

Fingers curled gently around his bag's handle, Ichigo made his way towards the Quincy's home as he took out a small slip of paper from his pocket—and flipped it open. Before the other day, Ichigo hadn't known the exact address, or location, even, of the Quincy's home. So now that they were regulating different schedules of who would bring Ishida his work each day, he was finally able to be lead to Ishida's home, and see where the archer lived. Although, seeing as he wasn't really good at memorising things—Orihime had been nice enough to jot down the teen's address on a single piece of paper for Ichigo to use. He was thankful he lived in Karakura his whole life—otherwise he wouldn't have known street names or complex numbers.

Looking down at the item in his hand, Ichigo used his thumb to hold the sheet open as he read through the address and turned a small side-street. For some reason, that strange feeling he had gotten earlier returned as he neared the Quincy's house; and this caused his brows to crease once more and his lips to thin and flatten together. _What's the matter with me? _He argued internally, almost as if he were glaring at himself for being so on edge. It couldn't be something with Ishida anymore, seeing as everything with him was going fine—so it was starting to bug him now that this feeling kept returning.

Maybe it was the fact that they had left Ishida at home, without any security? Perhaps he was being overly cautious because he was worried that Ishida would wander off and do something stupid—maybe even get into a fight? No… He knew Ishida was more careful than that, and far too strong to be taken down by something so easily; even with his injury. So… What?

And then it hit him.

Pausing in the middle of the street—halfway towards the Quincy's home, Ichigo froze. If he recalled correctly, he had brought the bag with him to Ishida's house the other day, but he hadn't brought it home. If he had lost it—he wouldn't have been this worried, because if someone found it, they might have just thought it was some plot for a story. But he knew that wasn't the case, he couldn't have just dropped it, which meant…

He left it at Ishida's.

"Shit..!" There were certain things in that book, that Ichigo had promised to leave out, until the teen regained more memories. He only wrote them down in the book, as a 'just in case' sort of thing—to help Ishida remember. But he didn't end up needing it just then, and meant to discard it in his closet before it could be seen by anyone, let alone Ishida. But if he didn't have it with him, and it wasn't at home; that meant it could only be in one place.

"Ishida…" Picking up the pace, Ichigo began a light jog—only for it to quickly turn out into a full-fledged run. He hoped the archer hadn't looked in it—regardless if it would make him remember anything or not. For even though it would be a good thing, if Ishida remembered it; he wasn't sure the teen was ready for certain things in that book, if he didn't. He could only hope now, nothing bad had happened—and that Ishida would still believe that, with Ichigo, he was in good hands.

-X-

To be continued.


	5. Chapter 5

Look at me  
Chapter five: To feel  
A/N: I would say "I told you so." About the slow ass updates, but—really? It's taken me over two months to get this chapter out? Oh God, I'm so sorry! Hopefully this does your waiting justice. (Probably not; it's short and kind of pointless.) I'll try and make the next chapter longer, I promise. But I wanted to get this done. I didn't like how I ended the last chapter and didn't want to write the aftermath with the whole book and Ichigo going to Ishida's house. So yes, it took me this long just to decide to do a time skip to afterwards where he already had the book in his possession. But, at least this gets rid of that ordeal—and I can start up some drama in the next chapter. Everything is so fluffy and Ichigo Ishida friendliness; I need to get some hate in there. So time to fuck shit up in the next chapter~

Read and enjoy!

-X-

Leaning down, a soft sigh escaped the teen's parted lips as orange eyebrows gently began to knit together to create a small scowl. Reaching up, the Substitute Shinigami placed his elbow onto the table and with the hand that belonged to that arm—leaned over to lazily rest his chin on top of his palm.

It was quiet here, within the Urahara shop where Ichigo currently sat down in front of one of the small low tables within the shop keep's home. After realizing what he had done—or really, what he had forgotten at the Quincy's home; it didn't take him long to rush his way over to Ishida's house to try and retrieve his belongings that he had accidentally left behind. For some strange reason, he had thought the book would still be in place—tucked within the bag he had left it in, untouched. Although he supposed that, somewhere in the back of his mind he had known that Uryu wouldn't be so dense as to not go through something that reeked of Ichigo's spiritual pressure; considering it was left in his house and intended for him. But he had hoped Uryu hadn't of touched it, nonetheless.

So that was why it came as a shock to him, that when he had snuck into the archers (stupidly left unlocked) home that the book was laying on the floor, partially opened—and the Quincy nowhere in sight. He could tell that it had been read, and not just by the position it had been left in—but by how carelessly it had been left aside, and not put away so that Ichigo wouldn't have known. (Well, Ishida probably didn't know Ichigo was going to come and get it—let alone barge in without asking to retrieve it.)

But that wasn't the only thing that had shocked Ichigo. No—what shocked him the most was what he had saw when he went to retrieve the book, as well as what page it was on.

He knew that once Ishida would start to read the book that he wouldn't put it down. He had known the archer long enough to witness that—upon getting a new book, Ishida would be seen with it constantly until every detail—from beginning to end was read; and nothing was missed. So he knew already, that if the book was open, Ishida would probably—if not, most likely read every detail within the book and it would only take him a night. So when he had reached down to pick the book up, he should have known it would have been on the last page like it was.

Still, to see what he had written so carelessly into the book at the end still caused his eyes to widen—and an immense shot of guilt to make its way through his body. That was why when he had heard the sound of a body shifting in water, he quickly began to pack up the book and shove it into the bag he had left there the previous day. But it was also then that he had spotted on the ground, the tiniest bit of blood that was soaking into the carpet—right next to where the book had been laid.

That could only mean one of two things. Ishida had read the entire book and been so shocked that he had ripped some stitches out—causing the blood to leak through and drip onto the carpet. Or two—something had happened that had caused Ishida's stitches to rip out; and out of shock he had dropped the book and went to clean himself up, just like he was doing right now.

He hoped for the later, but knew that probably wasn't the case.

Sighing, the teen shook his head—sliding his fingertips over the cover of said book he had been stressing himself over as he leaned back on the small floor cushion. Pressing his lips together, he couldn't hold back the scowl as it began to form upon his face as he frowned. Why did he bother writing all of this? Of course, it was to help get Ishida's memory back, but why? As much as he wanted to tell himself it was for the best, for Ishida—he knew that, that was a bunch of bull crap and inside—it was really so Ishida would remember everything so that _he _could feel better. Not Ishida.

_Shit… What kind of friend am I? _Closing his eyes, Ichigo pressed both of his palms against his forehead as he then slid them downwards and began to rub at his eyes. How could he do such a thing to Ishida, when he was supposed to be his friend? He knew that if he had lost his memories due to someone elses' careless antics and actions—they would be doing their best to help him remember for his own sake, rather than theirs. So why was he acting like this? Why was he being such a stubborn ass over this entire thing when he could be doing better things like actually helping Ishida for Ishida's sake? Was it really so hard?

_But it was my fault… I doubt Ishida would want me to help him if he remembered what happened._

Eyes opening, a soft breath slowly escaped Ichigo's parted lips as he glanced down to the book. Reaching for it once more—he moved to flip over the cover when—

_Ding!_

"Ahh~ Good afternoon, Ishida-San~ What brings you here this fine evening?"

Ichigo's head snapped to glance over his shoulder as he turned around quickly and chocolate colored irises then began to widen. Looking around for a moment, he soon spotted the younger Quincy—standing at the back entrance which lead into the Urahara shop. Shaking his head, he then began to move at a faster pace as he hastily shoved the book into his backpack and slung it over his shoulder—standing immediately after. Stepping over the table which rested on the floor—he began to make his way towards the front entrance when—

"Kurosaki-San~? Why he's right over there!"

"Shit." Moving faster, Ichigo could hear the archer as he spoke his thanks to the blonde and began to make his way after Ichigo. Cursing to himself once more, this time internally—Ichigo reached forward and yanked open the front door as he quickly slid both feet inside of his shoes.

"Kurosaki!" Ishida shouted, his breathing picking up the pace as he moved around the small table instead of going over it. Eyebrows creasing upon his visage—his hands clenched into small fists at his sides as he dropped his bag onto a nearby chair and quickly exited the shop. Thankfully, Ichigo was in his human form—so he was well aware that he couldn't use flash step. Ishida, on the other hand, was quite skilled in Hirenkyaku and didn't need to be out of his body in order to use it.

Moving faster, Ishida then appeared at Ichigo's side as he reached out and grasped the teen's arm. He knew why the other had been a rush—it was fairly obvious to the both of them now, but that still didn't give him any excuse to literally run away from the Quincy, like he was.

"Kurosaki do you want me to rip my stitches or are you going to slow down?!"

Hearing those words, although irritating—caused Ichigo to stop in his tracks.

Thankful that the other stopped (even though he would have still continued to go after Ichigo, regardless—his stitches still were rather raw and unhealed) Ishida slowly released his grasp on Ichigo's arm as he lowered his hand to his side. Looking up at the teen's face, he noticed that Ichigo was looking elsewhere—purposefully avoiding eye contact and he couldn't help but role his eyes. "I know you were in my house earlier today, Kurosaki." He then spoke simply, cutting to the chase as he folded his arms across his chest. "And I suppose I don't have to ask why."

Pressing his lips together once more—although this time creating a thin line, Ichigo tilted his chin downwards as he continued to avoid the others eyes. He knew that Ishida would notice—after all, it would have been fairly obvious even to himself if a book he had left out in the middle of the room had suddenly vanished upon his return from having a shower. Although—he didn't think Ishida _should _care, considering it was Ichigo's property in the first place.

But he knew he would.

"You… Weren't supposed to see it." Muttering quietly, Ichigo's hands clenched slightly at his sides as he looked up at the Quincy.

"I wonder why." Ishida rolled his eyes once more; his voice laced with sarcasm as his arms slowly began to unfold themselves to rest at his sides. "You're terrible at hiding your reiatsu, Kurosaki. I wouldn't have noticed the book was gone, if it weren't for your obvious lack of skill in that trade."

Blinking, Ichigo stared at the teen for a moment—his lips opening to speak, but instead remaining open as no words came out.

Well he didn't really expect that.

Looking at the dumbfounded expression upon Ichigo's face, Ishida let out a soft snort as he shook his head. Reaching forward, he used a knuckle on his index finger and gently grazed the underside of Ichigo's jaw as he forced the teen's mouth closed. "Though, while I have you—care to explain?" As if anticipating any questions that Ichigo may ask at this point—he gestured down to the bag held within Ichigo's grasp that most likely contained the book inside.

Looking down towards the bag, Ichigo's hand tightened its grip as he held it behind his back. "No." He muttered, stating his answer simply as he looked over at the Quincy. However, as his eyes met cerulean coloured irises—the glare aimed in his direction, as well as the narrowing of Ishida's eyes caused Ichigo to squirm as he swallowed thickly. "Fine…" Mumbling quietly, he looked over his shoulder as he glanced towards the Urahara shop and scowled upon spotting the shop keep smiling at him and waving his fan from behind a window. "But not here."

Raising an eyebrow, Ishida leaned towards his left to glance around the teenager in hopes to understand the substitute's sudden uneasiness. As a hand then began to wave at him as it held a fan within his grasp—Ishida resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he realized it was probably a good idea to go elsewhere regardless of their hat-wearing spy. "Alright."

Starting slowly at first, Ichigo took a few steps forward as he glanced at Ishida from the corner of his eye. When the teen began to follow him, his shoulders relaxed (if only slightly) and his hand remained clenched onto the handle of the bag he held tightly within his grasp. Moving towards the familiar hill that he and all his friends knew—he waited until the small river made its way into his line of sight before relaxing his grip on the bag and turning his head to glance over at the Quincy. "So what do you know?"

Blinking, Ishida glanced over at the Substitute as the teen finally spoke and slowly brought his hands behind his back as he clasped them together and intertwined his fingers. Raising his shoulder in a small, half-shrug—his glasses began to slide down the bridge of his nose but he ignored them. "Only what you had written, Kurosaki. I remember bits and pieces of it of course—but obviously not the whole story." Azure coloured irises then drifted towards the other; looking into Ichigo's eyes he waited for the other to speak, elaborate on what he knew or anything of the sort.

Lips tightening into a thin line, Ichigo averted his gaze elsewhere as he glanced down towards the bag in his hand. With a small sigh, he hoisted the object over his shoulder as he shoved his other hand into his pocket and picked up the pace. "Well you already knew half of it." He muttered, obviously not too pleased to find out that Ishida had read the book. Yes, he knew the other had already—but having it actually confirmed for himself to hear was another thing.

Sparing Ishida a quick glance, he noticed the other was staring at him—and not that intense sort of stare that Ishida normally did when he wanted information out of him; but a somewhat harsh glare as if he knew that already, get to the point. Scowling, a soft growl escaped Ichigo's lips as he grit his teeth together and looked in front of himself. Squaring his shoulders, he realized that it would be best to start from the beginning of the whole 'adventure' they had together, which led up to that point.

"How much do you know about Hueco Mundo?" Speaking quietly, Ichigo continued to look straight ahead—this time not sparing a glance to the Quincy as he moved towards the steep hill.

"Hardly anything really, or at least—opposed to what I used to know." Reaching up with his left hand, the Quincy gently pressed his index finger to the middle of his glasses as he pushed them up the bridge of his nose. "I'm aware that, that place is where hollows lay—as well as where Aizen had originally formed his plan. Other than that, I only have the few details that Inoue-San and the others gave me—such as going there to save her in the first place and whatnot…" Trailing off for a moment, Ishida began to mumble quietly as he spoke the next little bit. "And then I remember you as a hollow—the rest is fairly obvious."

"Mn." Letting out a soft sound in acknowledgement to the Quincy's words, Ichigo slowed his pace—forcing Ishida to slow down as well as they made their way down the small hill. "Well, it's exactly what they told you. Inoue was taken by one of Aizen's Espada's—and in case you didn't know what they are, they're hollows turned into human-like creatures that possess the same powers as Shinigami." Looking over to Ishida, he noticed the slightly raised eyebrows and the look of surprise on the teen's face. Smiling slightly, Ichigo grinned—turning his head forwards once more as he continued. "They're strong, but not that strong. They rank in number and the lower the number—the stronger they are. The one that took Inoue was the fourth—but he doesn't really matter right now so I'll get to the point." Stopping in his tracks, halfway down the hill, Ichigo turned to the younger teen. "We went there to save Inoue against the Soul Society's orders. This was right after you got your powers back, so before that I don't really know what you were up to. We rushed to Hueco Mundo, fought a couple of guys while Aizen made his way to soul society to fuck shit up." Hearing the snort escape the Quincy's mouth caused Ichigo's expression to soften as he slowly began to lower his arm and allow the bag he held within his grasp to drop onto the ground beside his leg. "Yeah… I uh—when I had to fight the fourth Espada, he had a second release. One release is like calling the name of your Zanpakuto—but instead of it changing shape, it changes you as well. Well—this guy had two, and was much stronger than I had expected, and…"

"And...?" Furrowing his brows, Ishida frowned as he watched Ichigo trail off and slowly look downwards.

"And… I died."

Blinking, Ishida's eyes widened a bit—only for his brows to knit together as a look of confusion spread across his face. "How on earth did you—" Cut off by Ichigo as the Substitute rose a hand to stop him, Ishida frowned but complied nonetheless; pursing his lips together as he folded his arms across his chest.

"He punctured a hole through my heart—I didn't really know I was dead. But…" Looking up at Ishida for a moment, Ichigo looked away as he let out a breath. "Before, I almost died as well. This was when I first became a Soul Reaper and first acknowledged you. Byakuya came with Renji to bring Rukia back to soul society because she had given me all her powers—so I had tried to fight so that she could stay here. I guess I lost because she told me not to follow her, and when I woke up I was in Urahara's shop with some dude on top of me." Scowling at the memory, Ichigo shook his head and looked up towards the sky. "I had to go through some training to make me stronger, and in doing so Urahara 'killed' me—so that I could defeat death and get stronger or some shit. In doing this, I obtained a hollow form—which allows me to use a hollow's mask for more power whilst fighting."

"That's…"

"Impossible, right?" Watching as Ishida nodded slowly, Ichigo gave the teen a half-smile as he shrugged his shoulder. "Well, I thought so too. Hell—I didn't know why I had the mask to begin with; it kind of just appeared during battles to save my life." Letting out a small chuckle, Ichigo reached up to rub the back of his neck as he sucked in a long breath. "But… Yeah. So when I died—my hollow took over my body instead, and fought on its own to defeat the Espada." Going silent for a moment, his gaze travelled to glance over at Uryu from the corner of his eyes as an apologetic look began to lace his features. "I'm not sure what happened after that… Inoue didn't really want to tell me. What I figure is I tried to attack Inoue and you stepped in the way to save her…" Mumbling quietly, Ichigo looked away. "I never thanked you for that."

Regarding Ichigo with a somewhat serious expression, Ishida's eyes lidded as he looked over the teen's features. It was clear that this sort of subject—or maybe just this subject in particular wasn't one Ichigo wished to discus so freely. In fact—he probably never spoke to, or wanted to speak about it with Ishida before when he _had _memories, let alone now when he hadn't any. It was understandable though, he mused. If it had been him in Ichigo's position—that wouldn't be something he so eagerly wanted to discuss. After all—with how little he knew about Ichigo now, he could tell that he wanted nothing more than to protect those around him. And that memory right there—was one of his failures, one of his downfalls. Even he could understand why he wouldn't want to talk about that.

"I see..." He finally mumbled quietly; looking away as his glasses began to slide down the bridge of his nose.

"You don't believe me." Ichigo muttered quietly; his brows creasing as a scowl began to form upon his face.

Rolling his eyes, the archer lightly shook his head as his hands began to slide downwards to rest upon his hips. "That's so typical of you, Kurosaki. Ruining a moment because you refuse to believe that I actually believe you."

"Oi—that's not true! I can tell by the way you went all silent and that, that you don't believe me." Gesturing, Ichigo reached forward and flicked in between the archer's eyebrows as his scowl deepened. "You're a terrible liar."

"I am n—" Glaring slightly, Ishida reached up to swat Ichigo's hand away before gently rubbing the middle of his forehead. Lower lip beginning to stick out, he did his best to hide the amount of annoyance he felt the moment as he let out a huff and lowered his arm. "That's not true! I do believe you, moron." Reaching forward, Ishida shoved the others' shoulder as he began to walk. "It's not my fault you're too thick-headed and stubborn to realize when someone is siding with you."

Growling under his breath, Ichigo quickly leaned down to pick up the bag he had placed beside him before beginning to make his way forwards to catch up with the Quincy. "I'm not thick-headed!"

"So you're admitting you're stubborn?"

"I'm not stubborn either!"

Once more, cerulean coloured orbs rolled as the archer shoved a hand into his pocket. Slowing his pace, he waited until Ichigo's strides were soon matched with his own as the substitute Shinigami stood adjacent to him. Looking out towards the flowing river, he watched as the sub began to slowly set before looking towards the water once more as he watched the river flow. It was quiet for the longest time, so long that Ishida hadn't realized he had drifted off in thought. Also, it had gone quiet enough that Ishida had begun to drown the other out—and almost didn't catch the mumbled words that escaped the orange haired teen's lips.

"I really am sorry…"

Looking up at Ichigo, Ishida blinked in confusion for a moment as he parted his lips. However, he didn't need to ask 'what for' and his mouth slowly slid closed as his eyes softened their gaze—but remained focused on the Substitute's features. "It's fine, Kurosaki." This time it was Ishida's turn to stop—bringing Ichigo to a halt with the very motion. Looking up, he watched as a bird flew overhead before speaking quietly as he kept his gaze locked on the sky above. "You could tell me what happened though, you know? I hardly know you well enough to decide whether or not to be mad; so it's not like I will shot an arrow through your skull." This earned a quiet chuckle from the teen beside him, which also prompted the smallest of smiles to form upon the Quincy's lips. Looking over at Ichigo, he seemed to pick the right moment to—because as he looked to his left, Ichigo looked to his right and their eyes met. He waited for a minute as everything remained silent; before watching as Ichigo's shoulders lowered and the teen gave a small frown.

"I know, but—…Just… Not yet. Not now."

With the seriousness to Ichigo's tone brought on a skeptical glance from the Quincy. However, watching as Ichigo's eyes met his once more—he couldn't help but give in as he closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. "Fine. But when the time comes and I ask again, you have to tell me. Deal?"

Smiling softly, Ichigo gave a small nod as he reached forward and gently nudged the Quincy's arm. "Deal."

Reaching up, Ishida gently rubbed his shoulder before opening his eyes. Looking up at Ichigo, he couldn't hold back the smile from reappearing as Ichigo's own smile met his eyes. However—he soon cleared his throat; causing his smile to disappear as he straightened himself up and allowed the smallest of smirks to grace his features. "We should be heading back now, Kurosaki." Gesturing with the raising of his chin towards the darkening sky, the Quincy turned around as he waited for Ichigo to do so as well and glanced over his shoulder as his smirk began to widen. "After all—we wouldn't want you to hollowfy on me again, because this time I won't be able to hold back from hurting you myself."

If it weren't to the obvious sarcasm and joking to Ishida's tone, Ichigo would have scowled. And if it were anyone else but Ishida—Ichigo would have glared. However, looking up at the smirking Quincy before him, Ichigo couldn't help but mock a scowl as he then rolled his eyes and shook his head as he walked around the Quincy and began to walk ahead. "Haha, very funny." Hearing the nearly inaudible laugh come from behind him as Ishida began to meet his pace—it was Ichigo's turn to stop and smirk as he looked into the archers eyes and spoke—just before running ahead of the teen to race the other towards the Urahara shop as he moved as fast as his legs could carry him. "That is if you can even keep up with me, with your slower Quincy Hirenkyaku."

-X-

To be continued.


	6. Chapter 6

Look at me  
Chapter six: To retaliate

A/N: I know I said I wanted to 'fuck shit up' and bring in some angst between the characters in this chapter, and although there IS angst in here; I don't think it's quite what you guys had expected. (Because it wasn't what I intended/had in mind when I first said that in the first place.) So as a fair warning, the first half of this chapter or so does _not _involve either of our protagonists (Ichigo and Ishida) but their fathers instead. Enjoy~

-X-

When he had first heard the news from his son, he hadn't really known what to expect, or what his reaction would be. He could still recall the morning it happened; how he had barged into the teenager's room with his trademark morning greeting, accompanied by a flying kick to his son's face. (For training purposes only, of course; one must keep their child on their toes at all times!)

He should have known immediately though, when his feet connected with his son's body that something was up. However, there were many times where Ichigo wasn't fast enough or feeling well enough to avoid his attacks and as a result, had gotten hit. So that was why at first, he hadn't really noticed the change in atmosphere as quickly as he should have.

"_You've gone soft on me again, haven't you?" Isshin questioned, his loud voice booming throughout the room as he landed on his feet after kicking the other over. Placing his hands onto his hips, a wide smirk stretched across his lips as he stared the other down._

"_Shut up…" Was the mumbled reply he had received as Ichigo pushed the covers off of his frame and slowly began to stand._

"_I won't allow any son of mine to be so careless! Prepare yourself for another attack!" Lifting his foot quickly, Isshin swung his leg in aim for the others' own and—to his surprise, managed to knock the teenager down once more._

_It was then that he realized something was wrong. Looking down at the teen, he watched as a scowl that seemed forced, formed upon Ichigo's features. Not only that, but as Ichigo rubbed the back of his head and sat up, he made no move to retaliate, or get back up on his feet as he usually would and commence with payback. _

_Frowning, Isshin took a few steps closer to the boy and stood silently before him until the other finally tipped his chin upwards and glanced up._

"_Was there something you wanted to tell me, Ichigo?"_

It was clear that, after that—when all his son did was frown up at him and close his eyes that something terrible must have happened. But out of everything that he could think of—ranging from Ichigo's powers, all the way to a lost friend, he hadn't been expecting what he had been told. How not only a friend of Ichigo's, but the son of someone that was close to himself as well—had lost his memories. At first he couldn't comprehend it—and had chuckled in disbelief. But when his son's chocolate coloured hues glanced up at him, showing nothing but sadness and regret, he knew that it was true. Ichigo wasn't lying about that sort of thing and really, he hadn't expected him to. It was merely the thought of breaking the news to his fellow colleague that had made him falter at first, and he now regretted it for not truly being there to support Ichigo from the moment he felt down.

Letting out a breath, the brunette ran a hand through his hair as he slowly opened his eyes. Glancing up at the door which lead to a familiar office, he simply stood there for a few moments; as he had been doing for a while, lately. Ichigo had made it clear that Ryuken didn't know—that when Ishida had gotten injured they had immediately brought him to Urahara due to how bad it had looked. He didn't blame his son though, really—for that was probably the wisest decision. He wouldn't want to mess up on that sort of thing (even if he did pride himself in his healing career) and wouldn't want to see the look on Ryuken's face when he once more was faced with his injured son, laying there helplessly before him. That and—feeling the reiatsu and knowing it was a hollow attack, most likely would have set Ryuken off afterwards.

But now he was left with the task of telling Ryuken what had happened. Ichigo of course, had told him everything—including how the hollow had attacked him at first. He knew how Ichigo must have felt, dealing with the aftermath—how he was still dealing with it, so he promised not to go into too much detail when he finally explained to Ryuken why his son wasn't exactly around much lately. (That being in school and roaming the streets of Karakura town.) For as much as Ryuken liked to deny it, Isshin knew the male kept a close eye on his son every now and then. It was just how parenting worked; they shared that factor in common.

Sucking in a long breath, he reached up to knock on the others' door (deciding to be more formal than usual, considering this was serious) he blinked when the voice sounded from the other side, signaling the other had already known—and for quite some time now, that he had been there.

"What do you want, Isshin?"

Shaking his head, a soft smile graced the ex-Shinigami's features as he glanced to his left and then his right. Watching as the many individuals who roamed the hospital's halls made their way by, he decided not to speak from the other side of the door and instead grasped the door's handle, and turned it so that he could walk inside.

It didn't take long for him to spot the other, sitting on the far side of the room, at his desk. A lone smoke could be seen, hanging from the Quincy's parted lips as blue irises skimmed over a few medical charts from behind his frames.

Approaching the other slowly, he slid a hand into his pocket as he remained silent.

"Can't a friend randomly pop in to check on another without wanting something?" Finally speaking after a moment's pause, he waited as ice coloured orbs glanced up in his direction for a moment; their narrowed slits calculating, yet stern.

"No. Now don't make me repeat myself."

Rolling his eyes in the slightest, the small smile which had previously graced the Shinigami's features then widened a fraction, before he once more began to move around the other; to sit upon the corner of the archer's desk. Expression suddenly becoming serious, the older of the two men within the room then pressed his lips together firmly as he glanced down at his long time friend. "Well, I came here to tell you something anyways, so…" He murmured, averting his gaze for a moment as he trailed off. The quick response the other threw at him almost made him laugh, however—he held it in, for sake of how serious the conversation would soon get.

"I figured as much."

Letting out a soft breath, Isshin glanced down at the bespectacled director as he reached towards him. Placing the flat of his hand against the pile of paperwork the other was clearly giving a once-over, he met the others' slightly irritated stare with a serious one of his own. Despite the fact he knew Ryuken was faltering at the look, the male didn't show any signs of curiosity and instead leaned back in his chair. Watching as the white haired male then reached into the pocket of his lab coat to pull out a cigarette, he allowed the other time to do so and light up as he leaned back upon the desk.

"What is it then, Isshin? I haven't got all day."

"I know that." He retorted, keeping his voice calm—despite the fact that he felt rushed. But then again, he was rather used to this sort of now. (After all, Ryuken was never really a patient man.) Tapping his fingers gently against one of his legs, he then shifted once more and decided that he felt more comfortable, standing. Leaning against the side of the desk as he did so, he glanced down at the others' calm expression as he watched the younger male suck in a drag before exhaling slowly in his direction. Meeting Ryuken's gaze once more, he decided that a different approach would be necessary if he wanted things to move in a more smooth direction. (Or as smooth as it would go, considering the subject…)

"It's about Uryu, Ryuken." He spat out suddenly as he held the others gaze. Instead of a falter which he had assumed this one would bring on, the reaction he received was the raising of one curious white eyebrow as Ryuken extended his arm to remove the cigarette from between his parted lips.

"Is that so? What sort of foolish nonsense has he gotten himself into this time?"

"Ryuken…" A bit upset that the other wasn't taking this topic a bit more seriously, the tone of his voice was probably evident, due to the response he got from the other, simply by uttering his name.

"Well what else is new, Isshin? It's always something or another that he's gotten himself into; and in the end, it's rather obvious as to why you would come to me. Not for the fact that I am his father, but because I am a doctor, correct?" A white brow rose once more as he tapped the end of the cigarette into the ashtray. "Or is it some other form of idiotic nonsense that you wish for me to be a part of? Something to do with school and whatnot?"

"Ryuken!"

Chest rising and falling at a slightly faster pace, Isshin held in his breath as he relaxed his arms. He hadn't meant to yell, but he knew that once Ryuken got like this—he would stray from the original topic and things wouldn't come out as seriously as they needed to be said. His son had lost his memories for heaven's sake, and he didn't know it yet. Isshin wasn't about to go letting the other put his son down verbally, only to later on feel guilt about the entire thing—after realizing what this conversation was really about.

Clenching his hands into light fists at his sides, he watched as a confused and slightly annoyed expression then laced the archer's features as Ryuken's eyebrows furrowed whilst he looked up at him.

"What do you want to tell me then, Isshin?"

Even though it wasn't a drastic change, the tone of Ryuken's voice was far more calm, and noticeably more determined. Letting out the breath that he had been holding in slowly, Isshin closed his eyes after a moment before lifting his lids to look the other in the eyes—as he spoke as carefully as he could. "I heard from Ichigo yesterday, Ryuken… It seems as though Uryu's lost quite a bit of his memories…"

As silence filled the room, one could almost describe the aura as suffocating. Blue irises soon narrowed as the doctor gazed upon the Shinigami, a dry look upon his features as he aimed a slight glare in Isshin's direction. He was silent for a moment, his hand pressing against the cigarette bud he still held as he ground it slowly into the ashtray; before ever so quietly his lips began to part as he spoke evenly to break the silence. "This isn't a very funny joke, Isshin." Choosing his words carefully, just in case—the doctor's skeptical gaze held strongly onto the elder's own.

"It's not a joke, Ryuken." The brunette replied simply, a small frown forming upon his lips as his eyes filled with guilt. After he had said those few words, he had expected something—anything. However no such reaction came from the white haired male, aside from him shifting slowly in his seat as he narrowed his eyes.

"I see…"

"Ryuken, I—"

"You don't have to explain yourself, Isshin. I understand completely." Rising from his chair, the Quincy reached over to grasp his lab coat as he slipped it on, over top of his clothing. Ignoring the confused stare, and sputtering Isshin as he began to adjust his collar and move towards the door, Ryuken simply paused for a moment which caused the other to stop, midst-step as he gave the other a firm look.

"I have patients I need to tend to, as do you—I'm sure. This can be discussed later, on different terms when our work has been completed."

"But—"

"That's enough, Isshin. I've already spoken."

Frown forming upon his features, the brunette parted his lips to speak—only to slowly begin to slide them shut. Giving a small, curt nod, he watched as the Quincy exited the room quickly, the door swinging shut behind him as it created a small breeze. Sighing slowly, the male closed his eyes—shaking his head once more as he reached upwards. Rubbing the heel of his palm against his forehead, he couldn't help but wonder—

Out of the two of them, how did Ryuken become the stubborn one?

-X-

Shifting from where he sat, cross-legged on the couch—the archer's brows furrowed slightly as he tapped the end of his pencil idly against his lower lip.

Missing two years of school, mentally—didn't seem to do him much harm. Of course, there were occasional problems for certain classes of homework here and there that he didn't understand; but after pausing for a moment to do a bit of research, it all became clear. Obviously it paid off to be the top in his class—seeing as if he had been a delinquent that slacked off, his life would have been made a hell of a lot worse. (Not that he'd ever let himself stoop so low.) But the social aspect of the two years he missed… had proven to be quite a problem.

New faces that had arrived months into different school years that he had no recollection of had spoken to him quite a few times—much to his chagrin. And not only that, but he had also somehow managed to become the Student Council's president at Karakura High. (Which meant even more names and faces to remember, in a small amount of time.) He didn't necessarily mind, however—in fact, he felt rather honored and pleased with himself for gaining such a title. It was simply because he had so much on his plate at the moment (plus, no one at school knew about his loss of memory) that he found it rather stressful, rather than a good thing.

Letting out a quiet breath, Ishida shook his head and lightly scribbled down the last answer to the bit of homework that he had missed while he was 'away'. Rolling his arm afterwards, as it gave him a small jolt of pain—the archer grit his teeth for a moment before finally giving in for the first time today, as he headed towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water and his pill.

Despite the fact that Orihime could heal rather well—as well as Urahara for that matter, his arm remained injured. Because of the side effects, as well as the fact they had to extract the hollow's poison (or so he heard) from a more sensitive part of the arm (where if hit in the wrong places, could have left his arm immobile) he was left bandaged. Not that he minded, particularly—seeing as he had experienced worse; it was simply the restricted movement the bandages caused, on top of the pills he had to take every now and then—that irked him greatly.

Nonetheless, he did it without complaint—seeing as he knew that getting better physically, was the best option for him. (And as quickly as possible, at that.) So popping the pill from its plastic container, he placed it onto the back of his tongue as he opened a bottle of water and slowly tilted his head backwards before taking a sip and swallowing.

Coughing afterwards as he almost choked—the sudden knock which sounded at the door had startled him. Eyebrows knitting tightly together, he wiped his mouth off using the back of his sleeve, as he then placed the bottle down and moved to exit the kitchen.

He had almost made it to the door, when he finally felt the familiar bit of reiatsu—and recognized it. Staring for a moment, his arm outstretched and fingers merely inches from the door's handle; he then stared for a moment longer before furrowing his brows together once more as he glared.

"What do you want, Ryuken?"

"Is that how you're supposed to speak to your father?"

The response he had gotten after yelling through the closed door was immediate, and predictable. Finding the sense of familiarity somewhat comforting—even If he wouldn't admit it, he shook his head quickly to rid it of such thoughts before he folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the door. "Why are you here, Ryuken?"

"One would think the answer was fairly obvious, or have you forgotten the fact that you've lost a bit of your memory as well? Correct me now and tell me that I am the one who is misinformed."

Staring for a moment, his glare hardening as he eyed the closed door—Uryu resisted the urge to yell at the other, to tell him that he was, in fact, incorrect; but he knew the other would catch on quickly, and recognize his words as a lie.

Reaching forwards, he grasped the handle and turned it quickly—only giving them enough room to see each other, face-to-face. "Who told you?" He asked stubbornly, his lips pursing together as he glanced up at the others' face—noticing that even though he was missing two years of his memory; Ryuken hadn't seemed to change all that much. His hair was still white as he remembered—however the silver areas he once had, now a permanent snow colour. His eyes, still menacingly blue, their cold gaze somewhat more narrowed with wrinkles forming in the corners of his eyelids; but no changes were too major.

As much as he hated the thought, he was somewhat thankful that at least _something_ was just as he remembered it.

"Who else would I have heard it from?" He asked with a raised brow. "Kurosaki Isshin."

Sarcasm and bitterness—most definitely as he remembered him.

Allowing his creased brows to relax somewhat, he stepped aside and reluctantly opened the door the rest of the way. Watching as the elder Quincy entered the room—he frowned upon feeling the familiar Quincy spiritual pressure; still not entirely sure how he felt about remembering that Ryuken had been the one to help him regain his powers.

When the room became silent, he watched as the older male slid his hand into his pocket and turned to face him. Shutting the door quickly and quietly, he then shifted a bit on his feet—before walking around the other and making his way towards his supplies which were still set out, resting upon the couch's cushions. Ignoring Ryuken's lingering stare, he simply set about getting to the point, as he glanced up at the other and adjust his glasses. "What did you come here for then, Ryuken? If it was just for affirmation, I believe you're good to go." Picking up an armful of his supplies, he began to carry them towards his bag, which was resting against the small stand on the other side of the room. Pausing, if only for a moment as he heard the others' answer—he held in the glare which threatened to resurface.

"Obviously I am here to make sure you're not completely helpless on your own."

"Well I'm not helpless, Ryuken. So be on your way." Shoving the books into his bag, he turned his body and angled himself towards the couch. Picking up the few pencils he had out, as well as erasers; he placed them within the small zip-up pencil case he owned as he made his way back towards his bag. When he faltered for a moment, he paused midst-step as his arm began to ache once more. Cursing silently under his breath that the pill had yet to kick in, he grit his teeth together in attempts to ignore the sudden wave of dizziness that was then brought on as well.

Keeping his stare firm, the eldest of the two Quincies then slid his free hand into his pocket, in mimics of the first. Even though he knew the other was right in saying such, to some extent—the obvious discomfort the other was feeling at the moment, was not hid from the doctor's searching eyes. Stepping towards the young teenager, he remained silent as the other moved; waiting for the moment when It would become apparent to the younger that Ryuken was well aware of his situation. "If you aren't helpless, then why did you stop?"

"I was taking a break, is that not allowed?" Snapping immediately after in retaliation to the others words, Ishida blinked as his eyes then met the others' gaze—before he looked away quickly. He hated the fact that he could tell when Ryuken knew something he did not want him to know, which also happened to be right now. Despite the fact he was in a small amount of pain, he didn't care that he was living alone—because he knew that he could handle things quite well by his lonesome. However, he wasn't sure what Ryuken's plans were, should he find out that he was less than capable, living on his own. (For what he assumed was capable enough, could be the complete opposite in Ryuken's eyes.)

"If you're taking a break out of drowsiness, you should go in for a check-up. Just because a Shinigami says you're good enough to move back on your own, doesn't mean you are. Had I not taught you better than to believe everything a soul reaper says?"

Gritting his teeth once more, the archer ground his jaw together. "I'm perfectly fine, Ryuken." Continuing on his way towards his bag, he slowly began to kneel. "Besides, I don't need… your…" Swaying a bit as his vision suddenly became blurred, the headache which he had grown accustomed to earlier, had returned once more—causing his head to throb. His hand faltered in placing the case into his back-pack, and as he moved to stand once more, he slipped.

Strong arms soon wrapped themselves around the archer's waist—catching him just in time, as he fell. Leaning back against the strong chest unintentionally, a shaky breath then escaped Uryu's parted lips as he felt himself being lifted from nearly inches above the ground. Looking up at Ryuken, he attempted to shrug himself from the others' hold—only to be held a bit more tightly until he was standing completely upon his feet.

Glaring at the older male, irritated that he had come to catch him; he quickly dusted his hands off on his shirt as he gave it a small tug.

"What was it that you did not need from me, Uryu? My help, perhaps?"

Hating the amount of smugness that was clearly evident in the others' tone, Uryu directed his gaze elsewhere as he glared at nothing in particular and folded his arms across his chest. "Shut up, Ryuken. I don't need your help. Just because you managed to witness one of my _few _moments of weakness, doesn't mean I need you around to help me." As soon as the words escaped him, he knew that there was something in there the other would catch—and turn his words against him.

"Few?" Ryuken repeated, raising an eyebrow. "So this happens more than once?"

Letting out a long, irritated breath, Ishida averted his glare and aimed it towards the other as his upper lip threatened to twitch upwards, in a snarl. "Yes, if you must know—it's happened a few times. However I have managed to deal with it on my own up until now, so I still am in no need of your assistance." Turning away from the other, he began to head towards the door as he opened it once more and gestured. "So as I said earlier, Ryuken—you may go."

"I believe that dizziness and fainting is common only when one over-exerts themselves, after losing their memory." Ignoring the others' words, as well as positioning—Ryuken made his way towards the couch and picked up one of the pencils that Uryu had neglected to grasp. "If that's the case, and you're over-exerting yourself—as a doctor, I cannot allow that." Turning to face the other once more, he leveled his stare with the others' as his expression remained stoic.

"And what exactly are you hinting at, Ryuken?" Narrowing his eyes dangerously, he could almost hear the others' words in his head, before they were spoken. As much as he had missed, memory-wise; Ryuken wasn't all that difficult to figure out, or anticipate. But no matter how hard he would retaliate to this, or argue, or refuse—he knew that in the end, with Ryuken's simple answer, his fate was sealed.

"As both your father, and a doctor—I will not allow you to remain living alone, Uryu."

-X-

To be continued!


	7. Chapter 7

Look at me  
Chapter seven: To despise

A/N: And here comes the drama. Or angst. Whichever you prefer to title it as. (A short, boring chapter nonetheless.) Thank you for waiting!

-X-

To say that Ishida was irritated would be an understatement. To say he was angry, even—that too would not be a strong enough word to describe whatever it was that Ishida Uryu was feeling at that moment.

Whatever it was, though—it was bad. Normally, whenever Ishida was in a bad mood, he'd ignore everyone, glare at the occasional question which was directed his way or—to the extreme, would brush people off immediately if they so much as tried to speak with him. But today, Ichigo noticed—upon entering the class, the archer had a look on his face that clearly read 'annoy me any further, and you _will _die'.

It was obvious that Ishida wasn't one to mess with today.

But why—Ichigo wondered, was he that upset? Had something happened when he wasn't around the other day that made the archer this way? No… Even though he hadn't visited Uryu yesterday (due to the fact that he too, had some studying to catch up on) things couldn't have changed that drastically.

_Maybe he remembered something else—something I may have forgotten about and now he's mad I hadn't told him before hand? _Eyes widening a fraction at the thought, Ichigo quickly spared the archer a glance as he watched the teenager move discreetly and sit down next to him, in his chair. He didn't seem as though he remembered anything… In fact, other than the obvious amount of irritation drifting from the archer's form, he didn't seem any different from before he lost his memories, let alone now. Pressing his lips together, the pencil held within Ichigo's grasp was squeezed gently—before the Substitute flexed his fingers outwards and released the piece of wood.

_Maybe he's in pain, and that's why he looks so pissed off? _Ichigo's inner mind tried to compromise as he continued to watch the teenager carefully. But he knew that—if Uryu was in pain, he most likely would have stayed home that day and demanded someone bring him his work instead; because even though the archer hated tardiness more than anything, knowing his friends and those around him, if they so much as heard a wince of discomfort escape the teen's lips, he would have been sent home immediately anyways. And Ishida knew that.

Letting out a soft breath as the school's bell rang, the archer must have heard the breath—either that or he could feel the orange haired teen's lingering gaze at the back of his head—because soon enough, Ichigo found narrowed cerulean coloured orbs glaring in his direction with a certain amount of intensity that had him taken aback. He knew that look and he knew it well, as much as he hated to admit it. So as he stared back, somewhat shocked into bright blue eyes that were hidden beneath their frames—all he could do was watch as the teen reached up to adjust his glasses, before turning his back to fact Ichigo as he then looked away.

Uryu was clearly mad at _him. _

Scowl forming upon his features, Ichigo shifted somewhat uncomfortably in his seat as his hand grasped the pencil once more. Gritting his teeth, despite the fact that confusion could still be seen clearly within the depths of his eyes—he couldn't help but feel a bit of irritation and anger fill his insides as his jaw clenched tightly and ground his teeth together.

What reason did Uryu have to be mad at him? Other than the obvious, that is.

Holding in a frustrated sigh, the teen glanced around hopelessly, as if expecting something to pop up and answer him. His eyebrows remained knitted tightly together, and he had to loosen his grip on the pencil he held within his grasp, for he could hear the tiny crackling sounds, signaling he was about to break it.

_Now now,_ his inner thoughts attempted to reason with himself—_there is a slight possibility that you're over reacting, and he's not mad at you at all. _Looking up once more, Ichigo gazed at Ishida out of his peripheral vision—relaxing his features as his fingers slid gently down the side of the pencil.

That was true, he supposed. Ishida could simply be irritated over something much larger that Ichigo was unaware of, and was doing what any normal person would do by taking it out on those around him. After all—he knew that sometimes when he was irritated, it sometimes tended to affect those around him, due to him not being in the mood to be polite to anyone at the time. Pursing his lips once more, chocolate hues glanced down as if looking for something to do that would help his situation—and upon spotting the thin notebook filled with paper on the corner of his desk; a light bulb went off.

Reaching for the item, he quickly pulled it towards himself and flipped the pages hurriedly until he got to the very last one. Tearing a corner of the paper off, he could see a few heads turn to face him—but with one deep scowl, he sent their gazes averting as he began to scribble out something simple on the corner of the sheet.

Rolling the piece of paper into a ball, Ichigo looked around carefully to make sure no one was looking—before tossing it forwards. Watching as the small object bounced off of the back of Uryu's head, he eyed the teen carefully and he watched his every movement. At first, Ishida's chin jutted forwards and his shoulders tensed visibly; afterwards, Ichigo watched as Ishida straightened himself out and glanced towards the scrap of paper that now rest on the floor. Fidgeting impatiently in his seat, he forced a small smile as Ishida glanced towards him—only for it to immediately disappear at the glare he received.

And with that, Ishida turned away—not so much as bothering to pick up the piece of paper and reply to it or even to read what it said.

This time Ichigo growled under his breath.

Pulling another page out of his book, the substitute wrote a quick and simple—'what the hell's your problem?!' before repeating his previous actions: crumpling up the sheet of paper and tossing it at the archer once more. Watching as this one bounced off of the archers' shoulder, only to softly land in front of him on his desk, Ichigo leaned back in his seat and slowly folded his arms across his chest. Sparing a momentary glance at the teacher as the sound of chalk against the chalkboard met his ears, he turned his head to face the Quincy once more as Ishida began to move.

At first, all Ishida did was look at the crumpled ball—his lips pressed firmly together and his brows creased. Ever so slowly, Ishida's hand slid against the smooth wood of his desk—and just as Ichigo expected him to swat it away with the back of his hand and leave it on the floor, the archer stretched out his fingers after a moment of contemplation and grasped it instead.

Watching as the ball was slowly unfolded with care, Ichigo tried his best to search through the archer's expression as he read the small note. He could see the visible crease in Ishida's brow deepen as irritation filled him—and although he felt a bit guilty for writing the contents within the note, it served the archer right for ignoring the first. Soon enough, he watched as the teen's left hand then lifted up one of his many lead pencils and attempted to sit up even further to watch. Trying to look over the male's shoulder to read what the Quincy was going to write—his scowl deepened when he realized he couldn't see passed the tall male who sat behind the archer, clouding his view.

Sitting back, it didn't take long for the evenly _folded _scrap of paper to be returned—flung at him like some sort of boomerang as it landed in front of his nose. Blinking up at the teen, he spotted the small elastic which was wrapped around two of the Quincy's fingers; and rolled his eyes at the irony of Uryu flinging something at him, as if he were using his bow and arrow.

Unfolding the object with far less grace than Ishida had, Ichigo slid his fingers against the slightly crumpled paper before reading its reply.

_You're the problem __**Kurosaki**__._

Scowling as he read over the archer's neatly printed handwriting, the teen glared at the brunette from the corner of his eye as he noticed his own name had been scribbled with obvious distaste. Flipping the scrap over, he scribbled out a, 'what's that supposed to mean?' before crumpling it up once more—not bothering to repeat Ishida's actions in folding the paper carefully. Tossing it at Ishida—this time a bit more rough, his knitted brows deepened their scowl as the archer's hand reached up without even looking to catch it. When the smug look was aimed momentarily in his direction, Ichigo gave the other a half-assed glare and watched as the male simply turned around once more, and began to unfold it.

Ichigo barely registered Ishida reading it, let alone writing his reply—when the object quickly smacked against the Substitute's forehead. "Oi!" Yelling loudly, his shoulder's tensed as the class gave him a sharp 'shushing' sound, causing him to sink back in his seat as he reached up to rub the front of his face.

Muttering something quietly under his breath, he practically ripped the folded piece of paper open as he read the quaint;

_If you haven't figured out the hidden, 'you're always the problem' by now, Kurosaki—I pity you._

A bit confused, otherwise irritated by the archer's riddled responses; the orange haired teen shifted in his seat before angrily crumpling up the paper and—without even replying, whipped it at the back of Uryu's head.

This time, the paper wasn't caught—and as Ishida reached up to rub the back of his head and turn to glance at him, he grinned.

Only to then find himself ducking immediately after for cover as a pencil was thrown directly at his face.

Swallowing, Ichigo kept his stare firm as blue orbs met brown ones and he slowly reached towards the right side of his desk to grab another pile of paper. At the same time, he watched as Ishida's fingers curled over the back of his seat—either bracing himself to duck or swat at the paper, Ichigo wasn't sure which. Pulling off a small piece of the paper he had taken, his eyes narrowed—as did Uryu's as he crumpled the object once more, into a ball.

He didn't know how it had started, or how it had even managed to last that long—but ball after ball of paper was thrown at one another as each of them fought to smack each other upside the head. It was when the loud "THAT'S ENOUGH!" from the teacher reached their ears, did both he and Ishida tense and slowly turn to face the class. It was probably a stupid idea, Ichigo mused, to get carried away whilst still in the middle of a lesson, seeing as the teacher now had that look on her face as her foot tapped impatiently and her hands remained on her hips—the look that read, 'the two of you are going to get it now'.

"Kurosaki-San, Ishida-Kun, the both of you will see me for detention after class."

At that, soft snickers could be heard as the class erupted with laughter, causing Ichigo to growl a bit louder than usual as he glared at those who sat around him. Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned back in his chair heavily and gave Ishida one final look.

Ishida must have never received detention before in his life, because instead of the anger he had expected to see—his face was a mix of shock, horror, sadness and of course—utter hatred for Kurosaki Ichigo.

Well, so much for thinking Ishida wasn't mad at him.

-X-

All that could be heard within the small room was the soft ticking sounds as each second went by, by the hands of the clock. That, and the toe-curling scratching sound of chalk against the blackboard as the scraping sounds became all that more irritable to the teenagers.

Tapping the fingers of his right hand against the desk, Ichigo's chin rest gently upon the palm of his left as he let out an exasperated sigh. It had been roughly ten minutes since both he and Ishida had been instructed to sit at the front of the class—all their items, including their cell phones and anything of the sort sat by the door to be retrieved only when scheduled to leave. Seeing as they had caused quite the commotion in class, they were threatened with a week's worth of detention. However, after Ishida's pleading with the teacher (more like bribery, considering he was such a teacher's pet in Ichigo's opinion) the deal was that they would do thirty minutes after school, and never let it happen again. Of course he agreed—who wouldn't, to such a thing? But now that he had actually sat there, silent for ten minutes, he was starting to get impatient due to the fact he hadn't found out why Uryu was mad at him in the first place. It was really starting to bug him.

As if on cue, Ichigo's gaze traveled to the teen who sat next to him—straight-backed, hands folded carefully on top of his desk; a model student serving his time. With a slight scoff and a roll of his eyes, Ichigo shook his head and didn't happen to notice the look he received from the archer beside him. However, as he turned his gaze back to Uryu, he did catch the quick turn of the teen's head as Ishida looked away—making a brow raise in curiosity before he then looked away again. Glancing at the teacher who sat in front of them at her desk, marking a few items—he watched as she slowly began to stand; only for her back to end up facing them as words were scribbled on the chalk board.

Taking the opportunity to try and rouse a conversation out of Uryu—maybe an explanation while he was at it, Ichigo leaned over slowly and cupped his lips. "Oi, Ishida." Whispering the teen's name, he kept glancing between both the teacher and Uryu—just in case she turned around.

However, it seemed as though he was being ignored again, just as he had been earlier—because Ishida remained in place, sitting at his desk without so much as sparing Ichigo a single glance.

Scowl reappearing (as if he hadn't been scowling enough lately) Ichigo's fingers gently began to grip the edge of his desk as he tried once more, this time a bit louder. "OI, ISHIDA."

"Kurosaki-San!"

Wincing as a piece of chalk was thrown in his direction, hitting him atop his brightly coloured hair—Ichigo reached up and began to rub the side of his head, cowering beneath the teacher's glare as she gave him a warning. Pressing his lips together once more as she finally turned around, he spotted the archer glancing at him from the corner of his eye. Frowning, he lowered his hand after a few minutes and glanced at Ishida after he had already looked away and tried again.

"Come on, Ishida… Why are you mad at me?" When he received a slightly irritated stare, his frown simply deepened as he leaned over the edge of his desk. "If you don't come out and tell me, you know I'm just going to keep asking." At this, Ishida seemed to pause for a moment to think. He could see the slight crease to the archer's brow—notice the fine lines that began to form upon the Quincy's face as he held in a breath. As if anticipating it, Ichigo leaned back as Uryu closed his eyes—letting out a deep breath before lifting his lids once more to glare at him.

"You know very well what you did, Kurosaki." Looking away right after he had spoken, Ishida's hands remained laced together as he straightened his back once more.

"Wha—" Cutting himself off as the teacher began to turn around, Ichigo shifted in his seat and sat back. Waiting the few extra minutes until she had shook her head, stood from her seat and began writing on the board once more—he then turned back to Ishida as he leaned over once more. "I don't know what you're talking about, Ishida. I didn't do anything!" Hissing his words through clenched teeth, Ichigo did his best not to glare when Ishida turned to face him. Tilting his head a bit as he watched Uryu pause—he then sat back a bit and shifted uncomfortably as Ishida visibly began to grind his teeth together.

"Is that so? Then perhaps you would care to explain how, exactly, had Ryuken came to know about my condition, after being told by your father?"

Freezing from where he sat in his seat, Ichigo continued to stare—somewhat bewildered at the Quincy as Ishida continued to glare. Parting his lips after a moment, he began to speak up; only to soon close his mouth and duck back as the teacher turned, facing Uryu again afterwards when she turned her around. "I didn't mean for your dad to find out, Ishida—honest. I… I told my old man because he had caught me in a bad mood that morning, and demanded an explanation!" Trying to reason with Uryu, keeping his voice beneath a whisper, his gaze became somewhat pleading as he glanced up at the archer.

"And why should I believe anything you say, _Shinigami_?"

This would be the second time Ichigo was taken aback by the stubborn-headed Quincy. Not only because he had been mad at him for reasons he was unaware of—but now because he had reverted back to old nicknames he had deemed himself better than. Apparently Ishida didn't think he was worthy of being called by his last name anymore, let alone his name at all. And although he should be used to this—seeing as there were certain occasions, where had he made Ishida mad enough; he would start to call him 'soul reaper' once more. However… Well… he wasn't sure why he felt the uncomfortable twist in his gut when Ishida called him that, seeing as it used to only irritate him before. But whatever it was, the feeling was quickly suppressed as Ichigo straightened his posture and sat upright in his chair. "Well, for one thing, I—"

"Kurosaki-San, how many times do I have to tell you to stop talking?"

Interrupted by the teachers voice once more, Ichigo's head snapped towards the female's direction—almost as if he had forgotten she was even there, and watched as Ishida did as well out of the corner of his eye. "That's not it, I—"

"I don't want to hear your excuses, Kurosaki-San. You've clearly been bugging poor Ishida-Kun all day, even after he came back from that long leave he had to take previously. If I hadn't known any better—I would say that you want him to take the fault for the things you've been doing, and that's how you both have ended up in detention!"

"What? No, I—" Trying to explain, to tell her that he wasn't doing this sort of thing on purpose (well, really, he was—but he wasn't trying to get them in _trouble, _on purpose) he glanced at Ishida desperately; as if silently asking for help.

He got none.

"No more, Kurosaki-San. I've heard enough." Turning to face the brunette, an apologetic smile then graced the female's features as she leaned over her desk. "My apologies for ever thinking that you were to blame, Ishida-Kun. I can see now who the real trouble maker is."

Scowling as she glanced in his direction, his glare caused him a look of her own from the teacher which quickly had Ichigo looking away.

"It's quite alright, Sensei. Kurosaki's just having a bad day and taking it out on everyone else."

Snapping his head towards Ishida's direction, Ichigo opened his mouth and let out a protested "Oi!" Only to be ignored by both Uryu and the teacher.

"Ahh, I see. Well—is there anything I can do to make up for the false accusation?"

Hating the sickeningly sweet, 'innocent' smile that graced Ishida's appearance, Ichigo's arms quickly folded across his chest as he ground his teeth together. Watching as Uryu complimented the teacher, flattering her—he couldn't help but roll his eyes in disgust. It seemed as though Ishida was nice to everyone _but _him, no matter what he did. Alright, so maybe he had a good enough reason this time (seeing as Ichigo was both the cause of his father finding out, as well as the archer receiving detention) but it wasn't as if he did either on purpose! Not only that, he had thought—that out of everyone, he was the one trying the hardest to help Ishida gain his memories back. Maybe there were things the others were doing, that he wasn't aware of—but whether he did something good or bad, Ishida only seemed to react ninety nine percent of the time negative towards him, rather than positive. And like earlier he wasn't sure why, however—that made him feel bad. An indescribably bad feeling, somewhere between guilt and failure; Ishida made him feel useless.

"Thank you so much, Sensei, you really are too kind."

Snapping out of his thoughts at the sound of Uryu's voice, Ichigo watched as the archer stood quickly and began to make his way towards the door. Confused, he eyed the teenager silently as Ishida grabbed his bag and began to sling it over his shoulder. Ishida only stopped for a few minutes to grab some books from the teacher—before heading towards the door once more. Most likely to leave.

"Hey—where's he going? We still have ten minutes left!" Scowl deepening, Ichigo moved to stand; only to be halted by the teacher's hand as she rose it in the air and signalled him to stop.

"Ishida-Kun is going home to get some work done that he missed; seeing as he wasn't the real trouble maker here."

"But—"

"No buts!"

Feeling neglected as Ishida than stepped out the door, Ichigo parted his lips to say something—anything to get the archer to stay, only to find himself speechless. Pressing his lips together, his mouth slowly curved downwards into a frown as he sat back in his chair. Watching as the door slid closed from after Ishida had opened it; all he could do was sit there, staring, wondering how things managed to get even worse.

As if he hadn't felt enough guilt recently.

-X-

Adjusting the strap on his shoulder, the archer's gaze remained focused as he walked briskly through the nearly-empty streets of Karakura town. Lips set firmly in a thin line, shoulders squared and back arched—he couldn't help but glare at everything that came into view, as he made his way towards his destination. His 'home'.

What had Kurosaki been thinking—telling his father about his memory loss? It wasn't as if he was related to Isshin in any way—or if it affected him at all. On some level, Ichigo must have known that Isshin would tell Ryuken; after all, they sometimes worked together and supposedly were childhood friends. He should have expected that Ryuken would find out soon afterwards, thus making Uryu mad. How _couldn't _he be mad, after receiving an unexpected visit from the man he was reluctant—and refused to call 'father'? He meant—Kurosaki could have even asked Isshin to swear not to tell Ryuken, if it were critical he told his father about Uryu's condition. He had to of known—had to have at least thought about the outcome, no matter how large or how small.

Clenching his hands into light fists—one at his side, the other on the strap of his bag which he had been holding; the youngest of the Ishida remained rooted on the spot—standing at the front of the door as he grit his teeth together.

_Kurosaki doesn't think about anyone but himself—I bet that's why he told. Not even bothering to think of how I may feel, as long as he gets this huge burden of my memory loss off his chest. _Glaring at nothing in particular, Ishida reached into his pocket to take out a key he hadn't used in years—only to slowly reach forwards as he slid it into the lock. _I bet that's why he's been trying so hard to help me regain my memories. He just wants it all to be over so that __**he **__no longer feels guilt._

Practically forcing the door open as he stepped inside, Ishida then toed off his shoes. Glaring at the pair that sat next to his own on the floor, he reached down to set his shoes gently against the others; so that he wouldn't be scolded later on.

If he were to be truthful, it really wasn't the fact that Ryuken knew—per say, that ticked Ishida off the most. Hell, it wasn't the fact that the other had came to visit him either. The outcome, however—the one he hadn't expected, but should have expected; the same thing he hoped Ichigo would have foresaw before telling his father, was the one he now had to live with for who knows how long.

"I'm home, Ryuken." He finally muttered, pulling the bag from his shoulder as he made his way across the room. "You don't have to force me, now." Yes… This was the real reason he was mad at Kurosaki, when he really should have been mad at himself. After all—who in their right mind would want to be forced to live with their parent, after moving away?

-X-

To be continued.


	8. Chapter 8

Look at me  
Chapter eight: To shout

A/N: WHAT IS THIS NONSENSE? Two chapters in less than one week?! Witchcraft! Nonetheless—

Time to pull out the tissues? (Also, when Ishida is talking with the female named 'Ogawa' it is not a made up character, she is a real character created by Tite Kubo and goes to Uryu's school. Her full name is Michiru Ogawa.) Also—there are probably a lot of errors, as per usual. I never read over my work before posting. (Even though I probably should...)

-X-

If there was one thing Kurosaki Ichigo hated more than anything, it was confrontations. But not the typical one you may be thinking about, where you've done something bad and now have to confess to your parent—or maybe even a friend or family member or something of the sort. No—for this confrontation, he hadn't done anything wrong, necessarily, the other individual to whom he was trying to speak with was the one who assumed that Ichigo was in the wrong here.

Yes, on some level Ichigo knew that he was to blame for Ishida's displeasure. It wasn't his fault that Isshin was able to pry the information out of him—although, it was his fault for spilling so easily. He was honest however, when he said that he hadn't thought about the consequences beforehand. How was he supposed to know that his father would go tell Ryuken what happened? (Well, aside from the fact that Isshin had swore not to tell Ryuken _everything _if/when he were to tell him.) But that was 'when' and 'if' he were to tell him—Ichigo didn't know he was going to do it at all, let alone then!

Not only that, but he hadn't been thinking clearly that morning—after all, how could he? After everything that had happened over the past few days, starting from when they were attacked by the hollow up until now—how could he remain calm and stay strong for those around him, when he knew that this was his fault? Over the past few years he had been the one to make Ishida's life a living hell. It had been his fault Uryu injured his arms that day, it had been his fault Uryu got stabbed in the chest—and it had been his fault when Uryu took the beating from the hollow which was where they were now. At first, he had sucked it in and acted as though it didn't affect him. He wasn't doing it to seem cocky or because it didn't—he was doing it for everyone else. He was their protector, the one they came to for help, if they knew how guilty he really felt about this, and how much he was beating himself up for it… What would they think?

Letting out a soft breath, Ichigo reached up to run a hand through his hair before tugging sharply at orange locks. How could he be so stupid—so naïve in thinking that everything would remain on the smooth course that things had taken since Ishida had woken up? Of course, Ishida losing his memories was the worst thing in the world, as well as knowing it was he who caused it; but after that things seemed to go back to normal. (Or as close to normal as they could possibly be.) Ishida had regained a few memories—and if he had to admit it, he would say that he and Ishida were becoming closer than they ever had been before. Dare he say friends, even?

But not now. No… Ishida obviously hated him more than he hated getting things caught on the buttons of his shirt; Ishida hated him more than the colour red of a Shinigami's spirit ribbon—hell, to the extreme he would even say that Ishida hated him more than he hated Mayuri! He only prayed to God that, that wasn't the case.

Shaking his head, Ichigo rounded a corner before glancing up towards the large apartment buildings. Lowering the arm from his hair, he placed his palm on top of the railing as he began to walk up the steps. Even though he had only been to Ishida's house twice now, he remembered how to get there—if only with a few helpful navigation tips via text messaging from Chad.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Ichigo looked around for the familiar door number before stepping onto one of the balconies. Reaching up quickly, his hand paused in mid-air before he let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes. He wasn't frightened, per say, he just knew that whatever was to come—would involve an irritated Quincy yelling his lungs out. Or using super large words that Ichigo would need a dictionary for; making it so that he couldn't even retaliate or get angry, until he got home and looked the word up. So—he wasn't scared, he was just… Preparing himself.

Allowing his shoulders to relax, he pressed forwards with his fist as he knocked a few times. Lowering his arm immediately afterwards, he shoved both of his hands into his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels. Chewing on the inside of his lower lip and cheek, he glanced over his shoulder as he waited—watching a few strangers pass by before once more glancing forwards. Furrowing his eyebrows as he leaned forwards, he scowled at the fact that he couldn't hear so much as any movement from the inside; let alone Uryu ignoring him purposefully or taking his sweet ass time in getting to the door.

"Oi, Ishida!" Yelling the others' name as he knocked on the door once more, he banged a bit louder this time as he sped up the movement of his arm. Scowl increasing as his brows knit tightly together, he leaned over to his side before noticing the small window. Looking around, he shook his head once more before shoving his hands (this time a bit violently) into his pockets as he made his way towards the pane of glass. Looking through, he squinted his eyes in attempts to see through the perfectly white certain to try and estimate whether Uryu was actually home or not. Seeing as it was later during a weekday, he assumed the male would be at home doing homework—or sewing at the most, if not defeating hollows. Though he couldn't exactly be out on a hollow run, because no matter where he went—Ichigo kept his representative badge with him at all times. Not a peep could be heard from the object, and he highly doubted that it had 'broken', so that couldn't be the case.

"_**Ishidaaaa!**_" Stretching out the others' name as he threw his head back, Ichigo glared and let out a soft growl as he placed his hands onto his hips. "If you don't come out in three seconds, I'm going to yell to your entire building how much of a girly boy you are!" Making his way back towards Ishida's door, the teen tapped his foot impatiently against the welcome mat. Scowl deepening all the more upon his features, he glanced towards his right and blinked upon hearing the small squeak of a metal door opening.

Watching as an elderly looking woman waddled her way out of her door, Ichigo's expression immediately softened as he made his way over. Leaning over the archer's balcony, he placed one hand onto the railing as he reached out with the other to hold the door open for the female; smiling at the quiet 'thank you' he received while she made her way down the steps, he nodded in reply and shut it gently when she was clear of the door.

When he was sure that she would be alright on her own, he let go of the railing and stood straight once more, before shoving his hands into his pockets and walking back to the archers' window. "Ishida…" Mumbling quietly as he whispered the others' name, this time his expression turned into that of a sad one—a small frown creasing the corners of his lips as his shoulders tensed.

"Young man, are you perhaps here to visit young Uryu-Chan?"

Blinking, Ichigo turned around as he glanced over the railing, eyeing the old woman that he had helped but only minutes ago. _Uryu-Chan…? _A bit confused, his eyebrows creased for a moment until it hit him like a ton of bricks—Uryu-Chan would be Ishida! "Ah, yes! Yes I am here to visit Uryu-Ch—I mean, Ishida." Stepping up to the railing, he placed his hands atop the metal poles as he leaned over it and glanced down. "Do you know where he is?"

Nodding, lidded irises glanced up at the orange haired teenager as the female spoke. "I believe he mentioned going off to live with someone for a while… But he told me he would be back." Reaching into her pocket, she took out a small note before adjusting her glasses with the end of her cane. "I'm to look after the house while he's gone… He reassured he would be back. But for now he's staying over at some gentleman named… Ry…Ryuo… Oh darn it, I can't read it because of my glasses." Frowning, she took a few steps forwards as she leaned on her cane.

"One second." Turning quickly, Ichigo began to descend a few stairs before taking hold of the railing once more. Lifting his lower body over it—with one quick jump he appeared on the other side, before briskly jogging his way towards the elder woman. Upon standing next to her, he gave her a small, polite smile as she held out the paper. Taking hold of it gently, he glanced down at the neatly printed writing that could only be Ishida's before he then blinked.

_I'm truly sorry to place this burden upon you miss, but it will only be for a short while, I assure you. The man I've gone to stay with, his name is Ryuken—I've had an accident perhaps a couple of weeks ago now, and he wishes for me to stay with him till he's certain I am better. Do not worry though, I won't be long. Thank you ever so much._

_Sincerely, Ishida Uryu._

Slowly returning the paper to the female's outstretched hand, Ichigo couldn't help but stand still as he mumbled a quiet 'thank you'. Waiting for the female to begin walking away, he turned as well as his arm slowly lowered to his side. Staring off into space, he couldn't help but think over the archer's words as he made his way towards nowhere in particular.

_The man I've gone to stay with, his name is Ryuken—_

The only one he knew by that name was of course—Uryu's father. But even though the Quincy's words seemed calm and well thought out when chosen on paper, he could tell that, that wasn't the case. When he put 'and he wishes for me to stay with him until he's certain I am better'—Ichigo knew right away, that he was forced more than anything else. Forced to move back in with his dad who—even though Ichigo wasn't one hundred percent certain as to why they didn't get along, he despised. Forced to live with a man whom he hated and couldn't be more happier to be rid of upon living on his own.

It was because of him—because of Ichigo, that Uryu was now living with his father again, and that was the reason Uryu was pissed off. Because of him, not only did Uryu have to suffer with his loss of memory, have to re-learn things he had already knew atop of other things—but he also had to live with someone he hated.

How could he have been so careless—so… so…

"Stupid." Ichigo muttered as he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Pressing his palm against his forehead, he grit his teeth and muttered angrily—repeating his own words. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

-X-

"Thank you again, Ishida-Senpai! My sewing has greatly approved since you've started to teach me!"

Feeling the heat rise to his cheeks at the compliment, Ishida reached up quickly to adjust his glasses—partially because they needed adjustment, but also to hide the small amount of embarrassment he felt at the female's kind words. "A-Ah, you're quite welcome, Ogawa-San." Lowering his hand, the smallest of smiles twitched the corners' of Uryu's lips, forming a kind one in gesture as he glanced down at the petite female. "Though it's clear that you already possessed talent, you just have troubles in some areas. Nonetheless, I'm glad you're taking the advice I give you to heart—it shows great improvement." Watching as it was her turn to flush a vibrant shade of red, he gave a polite bow as she did so, and watched her walk away.

Stepping out of the home-handicrafts room where he had almost forgotten head to for the afterschool meeting—Ishida shut the door behind him (and still not used to his role as the student council's president) used the mandatory key to lock the door as well.

Placing the key carefully into his pocket, he began to make his way down the empty halls of the school as he made his way towards the lockers. Faking small smiles as they appeared upon his face as a few students waved upon passing—he wasn't sure who some of them were, but others were thankfully more recognizable than most. It was strange, seeing the old faces that he had thought he knew—only to see the significant changes that took place in the span of two years. No matter how many times he had to remind himself that he had lost his memory, sometimes it seemed so falsely incorrect—as if someone had made it up and he was simply in a dream. A dream where everyone became older including himself, yet he didn't remember why—or how.

Shaking his head, Ishida stopped near one of the lockers as he reached towards the lock. Turning the small dial quickly and efficiently, he popped the object open as he placed his books inside. Pulling out his shoulder bag, he set it at his feet before grasping some of the books from the upper level—and placing them inside. Pausing for a moment with his arm outstretched—his brows creased upon eyeing the familiar book, and he felt his fingers curl inwards, before grasping the object.

He didn't remember bringing the book that the others had made him to school and leaving it in his locker—although he did remember reading it during lunch times. Flipping the object over as he glanced at the decorative cover which read "The book that will help Ishida-Kun regain his memories so he will feel all better again!" and couldn't help but smile. This was clearly the work of Inoue-San (the title, that was) and the thought brought on a soft chuckle as it escaped his parted lips. Everyone had been so kind in helping him regain his memories lately—that he felt a bit bad for not showing as much gratitude as he should have. But then again—it was rather difficult to try and come up with something to use to thank them, for he didn't know their personalities all that well and didn't want to mix them up.

Still… His inner mind paused as he pressed his lips together. Kneeling slowly as he placed the book carefully within his bag, he couldn't help but think that he had to do something. They had all been so careful with every step he took, and even during school he would find small notes telling him who certain people were that had transferred to the school during the two years of memory that he had lost. Everyone had done so much for him, and he had to come up with a way to thank them all.

_Even Kurosaki?_

Blinking as his mind travelled back to earlier—how irritated he had been and how he had taken it out on Ichigo. Of course it was the substitute's fault in the first place—but perhaps he had overreacted. He had been so infuriated that he couldn't even think straight—and upon going home realized that he had both forgotten his things at school, as well as forgotten about the meeting.

Letting out a frustrated breath, Ishida closed his eyes as he zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. Standing straight, back onto his feet, he gently slammed the locker shut—before using the lock.

Despite the fact that he may have overreacted—Kurosaki still had no right to go around telling other people of his injuries. After all, it was a matter of privacy; that and, it wasn't Ichigo who was injured, so it was none of his business as well.

Turning around, Ishida quickly made his way through the hallway, before pushing the school's exit door open. Making his way down the front steps, he shifted the bag once more over his shoulder as he paused for a moment—before turning a corner. Perhaps he could go to Urahara's for a little bit—just until Ryuken left for his late shift. Maybe then he could ask some questions as well—as to who else knew about his unfortunate injury, to make sure they wouldn't tell other people just like a certain someone had. But then again, he trusted nearly everyone in that group… Aside from Ichigo and the one or two Shinigami.

Letting out a soft breath as he arrived, Ishida reached out and opened the door. Stepping into the humble shop, he closed his eyes and moved to remove his shoes—only to hear the familiar voices speak up upon entering the room.

"What do you mean you don't know where he lives?! Hell—you spy on everyone, I bet you have it written down somewhere!"

Hearing the familiar growl of Ichigo's voice, Ishida pressed his lips together before holding in a breath. Turning around to leave, he paused upon hearing the loud—"Ah look! Here's Ishida-San now~" as Urahara spoke; making him wince and quickly look over his shoulder in time to see Ichigo peek his head over the table and give him a look.

_Great._

"OI, ISHIDA!"

Turning abruptly on his heel, Ishida couldn't help but find this scenario familiar as he pushed his way out the door and began to leave.

Feeling the burst of spiritual pressure as Ichigo began to follow him, his hand clenched tightly on the strap of his bag as he picked up the pace and made his way towards a dirt path which led down the hill.

Eyebrows creasing as the teen watched Ishida's retreating form, Ichigo picked up the pace slowly before extending his arms at his sides as he began to run. Catching up to the Quincy, he leaned over the archer's side as he spoke. "Listen, Ishida—I'm sorry about earlier! But if you'll just give me a minute to explain—"

Cutting the boy off early as his hand rose to cover Ichigo's face, Ishida's brows knit together as he shook his head. "I don't want to hear it, Kurosaki. I don't need any more excuses." So much for thinking that he had over reacted earlier. "Leave me alone and go back to whatever it is you were doing, I no longer care anymore."

Scowl forming heavily upon Ichigo's brow, the teen sped up as Ishida did so and continued to walk in stride with Uryu as he tried once more to speak. "But Ishida—I had to tell my old man! I was… I wasn't feeling that good that day, and he kind of noticed. And…well… He's my dad for heaven's sake! If I can't confide in him when I'm upset, then who?"

Stopping in his tracks, forcing Ichigo to halt as well, Ishida gave the other an incredulous look as he turned his head to face the Substitute. "_You_ were upset Kurosaki? _You were upset_?! And what about me, huh? Is the one with the memory loss not allowed to have emotions?" Without waiting for an answer, Ishida picked up the pace as he began to walk once more.

"I never said you didn't, Ishida! Hell—you have every right to be!"

"That's good to know, Kurosaki. Because I am!" Rounding a corner, Ishida reached out and slid his palm against a nearby tree, before heading down the hill. Trying his best to ignore Ichigo's frantic way at communication, he couldn't help but furrow his brows once more as he clenched his teeth.

Growling quietly under his breath, Ichigo shook his head before pausing. Looking after Ishida as he quickly moved in the other direction, he turned as fast as he could without stumbling—before following him down the hill as well. "I know that Ishida—trust me, I do! That's why I'm trying to explain myself so you won't be so mad at me!" Jogging to catch up with the other, Ichigo shoved a hand into his pocket. "I know I should have thought about it before saying anything—I know I should have kept my mouth shut, but I didn't think about anything at the time and I never thought about the consequences." Frowning, Ichigo hoped that the expression he made was at least the tiniest bit sincere as he glanced up at the archer's face.

"That's your problem, Kurosaki." Ishida muttered quietly under his breath, his creased brow deepening in the slightest before he forced his features to relax. Looking down at Ichigo, cerulean coloured orbs met chocolate hues as he glared for a moment before replying—"You never think. Not once have you thought about how I felt, or the feelings of others. Not once have you even thought about how it may affect the one who actually _has _the memory loss; it's just 'me me me, oh I feel upset and hurt because now Ishida's ignoring me for being an idiot'. Just once, Kurosaki—just _once_ you should think before opening your mouth!"

Slowing down, Ichigo took a few steps back as they both stopped—only to watch as Ishida continued to walk once more. Momentarily stupefied, he continued after a quick shake of his head and attempted to stutter out a reply. "L-Look, I said I'm sorry! I know I tend to rush into things without thinking, and that I've never really used my head when I should… But I didn't mean for this to happen! I didn't mean for your dad to force you to move back in with him or anything, and I would take it back if I could!" Panting in the slightest due to how fast and how long they had been walking now, Ichigo parted his lips to continue after taking a breath—only to be interrupted as Ishida turned again and spoke up once more.

"Well it's too late for that now, Kurosaki. You might as well throw yourself a pity party and leave me alone."

Stilling as Ishida said those words, Ichigo's entire body went limp as he watched the teen's retreating form—his expression blank for a moment, before forming into a scowl. Another soft growl soon escaped the Substitute's lips and—as quickly as he could, he began to run after the archer, before taking the teen by the wrist to quickly yank him forwards and turn him around to face him. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what it is that I can do to get you to forgive me!"

Letting out a small gasp as he was pulled, Ishida braced himself for a fall, only to push at Ichigo's chest as he steadied himself—and tugged his arm from Ichigo's grip. Dusting his hands off on the front of his shirt, his eyebrows creased for the millionth time today as he stood back a bit and paused. "Why don't you explain then, Kurosaki? Explain everything to me, right now. And don't try and avoid it—don't give me some confused look and ask me 'what'—explain to me what had happened that day, and how I became injured at the very least!"

"You know I can't do that, Ishida! I told you I'm not ready!" Pulling his arms back to his chest after Ishida removed himself from his grip, his teeth grit roughly together as he ground his jaw and did his best not to glare at the other upon begging for forgiveness.

"That's my point, Kurosaki—_**you'll never be ready!**_" Panting slightly after yelling at the teen, he watched as Ichigo froze once more before beginning to walk backwards. Just as he was about to turn around—he could hear the quiet whispers escape Ichigo's lips, and had to listen carefully as he turned around. "What…?"

"I said I'm sorry…" Whispering quietly, Ichigo's arms began to shake as he clenched his hands into small fists at his sides. Doing his best not to do something—hit something, or worse; make a fool of himself. Ichigo grit his teeth as hard as he could before looking up at the archer quickly as his eyes snapped open. "I said I'm sorry, alright?! I was an ass for not taking your feelings into consideration—I was an ass for telling my father. I was an ass for letting you get hurt over the years and I'm still an ass now for letting you get hurt then! But how many, Ishida… How many times do I have to apologize?!"

A bit surprised at Ichigo's sudden outburst, Ishida found it was his turn to still as he glanced at the other, and dumbly began to murmur. "Other than today… You've hardly been apologizing, Kurosaki…" Watching as Ichigo's eyes closed once more, he could see the tension begin to build within the others' form—and thought for a moment that Ichigo was going to burst, take out his combat pass and go into spirit form, anything; but what ended up happening left him shocked and surprised. As well as another emotion he couldn't quite place. Guilt, perhaps?

Sucking in a breath—a slow but sure one as he willed himself to relax. Ichigo couldn't help it. Speaking quietly—his voice barely above a whisper, he murmured. "I… I meant… To myself."

Confused, Ishida's brows knit together once more as his head tilted to the side. "What's that supposed to mean?" He spoke quietly, taking a few steps forwards as he approached the teenager. However—he found as he began to step forward, Ichigo moved back. Frowning, Ishida stilled as he eyed the other carefully, suddenly becoming worried though not sure why."Kurosaki?" He spoke the others' name, this time quieter—not as harsh as it had been earlier. Parting his lips to speak all the more, he paused as Ichigo's hand rose—and waited for the other to speak.

"I really am… Sorry Ishida… Sorry I couldn't do anything…"

Watching as Ichigo looked up, his gaze slightly averted as chocolate hues glanced elsewhere—Ishida's eyes widened as he noticed the small tracings of tears; the dampness glistening as the sun shone overhead. "Kurosaki, you—" Without having time to finish his sentence, he watched as the other turned quickly and began to run away. "K-Kurosaki!" Yelling Ichigo's name, he attempted to run after—only to watch as the male entered spirit form as well and began to lift his body; flash stepping as fast as he could so Ishida couldn't follow.

Still surprised—otherwise shocked, Ishida hadn't noticed he stretched out his hand towards the other, and slowly let it drop to his side. Watching what tracings he could see of Ichigo's retreating form in the sky, his shoulders dropped silently as his bag slid from his shoulder.

"Kurosaki…" He repeated, the name whispered from his parted lips.

What had he done?

-X-

To be continued!


	9. Chapter 9

Look at me  
Chapter nine: To know is to understand, to understand is to forgive  
A/N: This chapter starts off slow, but progresses… fairly decently in my opinion. The ending was the best part, (even if it was only 'okay') but the beginning I had problems dealing with. So that's why the first-half is kind of drab and boring. Also—A VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE FICTIONAL (but not-so-fictional character in my mind) ISHIDA URYU! THE MOST PRECIOUS AND PERFECT BLEACH CHARACTER OUT THERE.

-X-

"_You never listen to me, Kurosaki!"_

"_That's because you never make any sense!"_

"_What part of 'don't rush into things because you may get caught off guard and wind up dead' didn't you understand?!"_

"_Shut up! Your words are too complicated!"_

_Looking away, Ichigo ignored the glare directed at him as he swung Zangetsu over his shoulder. He had almost gotten the both of them killed—well, seriously injured at the very least, simply because he hadn't listened to Ishida prior to attacking the hollow. It wasn't his fault though, Ishida didn't make any sense! The words that came out of his mouth now might have been more understandable, but when he had yelled it at him from over five feet away—it was hard to hear over the hollow's persistent roar. _

_Glancing over at the Quincy as Ishida gently began to rub his shoulder, Ichigo's lips thinned as they formed a straight line. So maybe he was wrong in ignoring Ishida's words this time—but that didn't give Uryu any excuse to yell at him afterwards. Just because he ran towards the hollow without thinking, didn't mean Ishida had to follow him. So really, it wasn't completely his fault for doing so, but Uryu's as well. If he had deemed it so dangerous, then why bother rushing after Ichigo when he knew they'd both wind up hurt?_

"_Tch, asshole."_

"_What was that?!"_

"_Nothing!" Looking over at the archer once more, Ichigo met the Quincy's glare with one of his own. When Ishida was the first to look away with a roll of his eyes, Ichigo pressed his lips together yet again and glanced forwards as he lowered his Zanpakuto off of his shoulder. Just as he was about to reach behind himself and sheath Zangetsu—an increasing screech began to make its way through the air, signalling that another hollow was nearby and on its way._

"_Back off this time, will ya? This one's mine." Tilting his chin upwards and to the right, Ichigo glanced up at the Quincy just as Ishida turned to face him. At the look he received, he could tell the other wasn't going to accept his words and stay put simply because he told him to; but then again, when did he ever?_

_Snapping his gaze upwards as the hollow rounded a tall building—its massive fangs poking out as it threw its head back and roared, Ichigo grit his teeth as he ground his jaw together; his hand automatically clenching around Zangetsu's hilt as he held it out in front of him. Taking a few steps forward, he then proceeded into flash step. Raising Zangetsu's blade, he let loose a cry of his own as he brought the blade down to the hollow's mask. Only when he did so—his sword wasn't the only thing to collide with the bone-like mask and cause it to crack it in half, but a blindingly bright flash of blue light that could only be one thing did so as well._

"_O-Oi!" Stepping back quickly as the arrow collided—Ichigo reached up and shielded his eyes as the hollow began to dissolve. Waiting for a moment, he then slid his arm away and peeked out through his fingers, before looking over his shoulder quickly as he glared at the younger teen; his hand immediately raising in a fist as he shook it at the Quincy._

"_I told you I had this one!"_

"_Yes, and I don't believe I ever agreed."_

_Growling under his breath as Uryu stepped forwards, he waited until the archer's bow disappeared back into its original cross form, before placing Zangetsu on his back. Making his way towards the Quincy, he continued to glare—his creased eyebrows deepening their scowl as he placed his hands onto his hips. Just as he was about to open his mouth to yell at the archer, he watched as the male once more reached upwards to grasp his shoulder. Faltering, he frowned as a grimace appeared across Uryu's features—showing that when he had messed up earlier and almost got the two of them killed, Ishida had still been affected._

"_Hey… Are you alright?" Pressing his lips together, a hint of concern could be seen within the Substitute's eyes as he stared at the Quincy. However—when Ishida looked up at him with a glare, he couldn't help but roll his eyes and mutter a 'never mind' as he made his way towards his discarded body so that they could make their way back to the school. _

_Watching as the archer began to walk ahead of him, with a small sigh Ichigo closed his eyes. Lifting his body as he began to walk, he was about to step into the 'gigai' when Ishida paused in front of him. Blinking, orange brows furrowed as he slowly lowered the body within his arms, staring for a moment before parting his lips to speak._

"_Get down, Kurosaki…"_

_Hearing the faint whisper escape the archer's lips caused the teen's brows to crease all the more in confusion. "What?" Dropping his body gently, he stepped over it as he began to make his way towards the raven haired teen when Uryu spoke again._

"_I said," Clearly gritting his teeth as his hands clenched into small fists at his sides. "Get down, Kurosaki. Duck."_

_Raising an eyebrow, Ichigo looked around for a moment before shaking his head. "Why should I?" Proceeding once more as he placed his hands onto his hips yet again—he was caught off guard when Ishida turned abruptly and yelled._

"_I SAID GET DOWN!"_

_Without so much as a warning, Ichigo found his eyes widening as Ishida launched into Hirenkyaku. Feeling the lithe yet surprisingly strong body attack his own—he braced himself for the fall, only to watch in horror as a hollow appeared where he had previously stood. Which meant…_

_Uryu had literally saved his ass from being attacked by a hollow. For the second time that day._

"_You're an idiot, Kurosaki. You know that?" Rolling off of the teen as he began to stand, the Quincy's bow soon formed once more as he aimed it at the hollow._

_Ignoring Ishida's words, Ichigo stood quickly as soon as he was released. Brushing passed the archer, he could hear the quiet protests begin to form as Ishida started speaking—but pressed on regardless as he reached back to unhook Zangetsu and slid the Zanpakuto from its sheath. "Let's leave the talking til afterwards, Ishida!" He yelled back at the archer without so much as a glance over his shoulder. Preparing himself for an attack as he began to launch his body at the hollow, the sudden sound of the Quincy yelling after him caused Ichigo to falter in the slightest. _

"_Kurosaki, wait!"_

"_NOT NOW, ISHIDA!" Looking over his shoulder as he yelled in reply, Ichigo glared heavily only to see the look of concern, as well as alarm; etched upon the Quincy's face. This time, Ichigo shouldn't have ignored Ishida— but he couldn't help it. Because of this, as he lifted the blade above his head with both hands gripping Zangetsu and looked upwards—he didn't sense it, nor was he prepared for the sudden appearance of a second hollow as it rushed towards him from his side._

"_ACK!" Feeling the wind escape him through one harsh breath, Ichigo gasped and grasped his side from where he was hit. Holding onto his rib cage with one of his hands, he found himself rolling without his consent—only to quickly let go of his side to place his hand on the ground to stop himself; effectively skidding in his tracks. "W-What the—?"_

_As Ichigo's head tilted upwards, his vision swam if only for a moment—due to the speed at which he hit the ground. Closing his eyes and shaking his head, he slowly pushed himself onto his knees before opening his eyes to gaze about his surroundings as his vision began to clear. Spotting the archer, he watched silently as the teen then fell to his knees—confused yet irritated at the same time, due to the fact that Ishida kept having to save his sorry ass from each hollow that attacked. "ARE YOU AN IDIOT?!" He yelled after the archer, standing quickly and flash stepping towards the hollow as his jaw ground together once more. Raising his sword above the head, Ichigo glared as the hollow opened its mouth and began to attack. Charging at it with incredible speed, he then slashed Zangetsu forwards as he yelled—"Getsuga tenshou!" Watching as the dark flash of reiatsu was directed at the monster's mask, he placed his feet onto the ground and slid against the pavement once more as the hollow let loose one final cry before combusting immediately afterwards. _

_Panting, Ichigo's chest rose and fell rapidly as his arms slowly lowered. Holding Zangetsu at his side, he swallowed thickly before giving one final look around—turning his body afterwards so that he could face the Quincy. "Why are you just laying there?" Brows creasing as his hand began to clench on his sword's hilt, a confused expression then graced the Substitute's features as he watched the teen struggle to get up._

_It was when Ichigo finally noticed the blood seeping through the archer's shirt did a brief sense of alarm flash over his features—however, just as he was about to rush to the Quincy's side, he could only stare as the teen's eyes began to widen and Ishida's lips parted to speak._

"_Kurosaki, move!"_

"_No, Ishida! I'm not going to move again!" Bracing himself this time, instead of completely ignoring the archer's warning—Ichigo's arms tensed as he held Zangetsu in a much firmer grip. Suddenly hearing the abrupt flash of a hollow rushing at him from above, Ichigo snapped his gaze upwards as he leaned back. Lifting his sword above his head, he let loose a loud, "Aaaaaarhg!" before swinging his Zanpakuto at the hollow's mask whilst flash stepping into the air. This time, it went more smoothly. The hollow barely had time to register Ichigo coming at him, let alone writhe in pain; and soon enough, the creature began to dissolve as the spirit it once was made its way to the Soul Society. _

"_See?" Smirk forming upon his lips, Ichigo slowly landed on the ground once more as his chin remained tilted upwards. Lifting his arm, he draped his sword upon his shoulder as he had done earlier, mocking his previous actions as a smug look began to form upon his face. Looking down slowly, chocolate coloured irises searched for the teen that rest in front of him—expecting to see the archer glaring at him, only to be surprised and somewhat worried as to the expression on Ishida's face. _

"_Kurosaki…." Frightened azure coloured orbs stared at the Substitute as Ishida's eyes remained widened. Without so much as another word escaping his parted lips—a long, shaky breath was sucked in; before he quickly rushed towards the Substitute. _

_Even though he should have expected it this time around—seeing as Ishida had already attacked him twice; due to the amount of fear lodged into his eyes, Ichigo found himself frozen as Ishida quickly pushed him aside. Startled and—somewhat perplexed, Ichigo landed on the ground with a soft 'oof' before turning over as he began to get up once more. Opening his mouth to yell—to say anything back to the archer who now stood before him; he could only watch in horror as his gaze soon met the sight that rest before his eyes._

_This time—the hollow was much bigger. Its claws drenched in something that resembled the colour of poison; the mist leaking from its fangs clearly stating that this wasn't a creature to be taken lightly. However—even as that thought registered in Ichigo's mind, all he could do was remain rooted in place, unable to move for some reason as he watched the archer shakily lift his bow and aim an arrow at the hollow._

_Only it was too late._

"_ISHIDA!" Yelling the teen's name louder than he ever thought imaginable, he watched as one long and sharp looking claw—penetrated the teen right through his shoulder. Slashing through Uryu, it looked as though his arm was about to come off—only the hollow then let out a loud cackling sound sort of resembling laughter, before shaking the Quincy off and stretching its arms out and into the air. _

_Instead of going to the hollow as he normally would have—rushing at it to defeat it so that he was sure no one else would be hurt; he could hear the abrupt sounds of his friends approaching—Chad and Orihime, coming to help. So with his best effort, Ichigo quickly rolled—flash stepping instead into another direction as he launched himself towards Uryu's body—wrapping his arms around the teen and dragging him to a safer area in the process._

_Soon enough, the quiet sounds of his friends chants—their words of anger and sounds of distress as they fought off the hollow met his ears. But even though he knew that they would need his assistance, the only thing he could do was kneel there as his hands quickly grasped the archer's shoulders—shaking him forcefully as if willing the teen to awaken. "Get up! Ishida get up!" Panting, heart racing and blood coursing through his veins—Ichigo slowly lowered the teen. "Shit…" Placing a finger quickly to the teen's pulse point; he watched in horror as none met his touch, and the slow rising and falling of Uryu's chest then ceased. _

"_I—INOUE!" Snapping his head upwards, he glanced towards the field where Orihime and Chad remained—fighting the hollow. Pressing his hands against the teen's shoulders once more, this time clenching tightly, his grip somewhat fierce like a vice; Ichigo's eyes remained wide and seemingly frightened as he shook the teen repeatedly - one lift after the other, his voice sounding strained. "GET UP, ISHIDA! GET UP!" Feeling someone's hands begin to touch his shoulders in attempts to pull him away, Ichigo simply shrugged them off and continued to shake the teen as his mind began to swim. "Ishida—Ishida please!" _

_But there was no answer. No reply… No move made whatsoever._

'_U-Urahara…' Ichigo thought, his gaze wavering as his arms shook. 'I have to get him to Urahara…!'_

Sitting up in bed, Ichigo shifted for a moment before slowly laying back upon the mattress. Allowing his gaze to flicker across the many planes upon the ceiling, he then let loose a small breath before leaning heavily against the bedding. Draping an arm across his forehead, the teen swallowed slowly as his eyes began to close—the silence in the room almost suffocating as he felt his body tense.

How could he have been so stupid? Now that he thought about it—now that he actually sat there (well, it wasn't as if he hadn't thought about it enough before) and allowed his mind to re-play the events that had taken place only weeks ago; he began to realize that him keeping silent about what had happened, really made it seem as though it was a bigger deal than it truly was. But he couldn't help it. To him, because Uryu had warned him so many times and he hadn't listened—he felt as though it was his fault Uryu ended up how he was now. (Well, not so much 'felt' as in 'knew' it was his fault.) Ishida could have died, even—there was a brief moment there, between getting him to Urahara's shop and lying him down that Uryu hadn't taken a single breath. All because of his idiotic tendency to ignore Ishida when he tried to give him directions or advice on how to fight.

Stupid, right?

Not only that, but he had made it seem as though it was an even _**bigger **_deal by reacting the way he did in front of the archer—even going so far as to cry.

I mean really now, cry?

Groaning, Ichigo shifted slowly; pressing his side against the bedding as he curled up in the slightest.

And as if that wasn't enough—after their little encounter the other day, he had made it his priority to avoid the Quincy at all costs. Which yes; included skipping a day of school. It wasn't as if he was afraid of Ishida getting mad at him this time—because in fact, if anything, he knew the teen better than that and was aware that Uryu would most likely take things at a much slower pace. However, him being his typical stubborn self—he refused to believe even what his own mind hand came up with, forcing himself to think that him going to school the next day would be… far from pleasant.

But he knew that they'd have to talk eventually. Hell—Ichigo still considered it his fault for putting the archer through all this, so he would in no way abandon the archer; simply because he felt embarrassed. Or… Whatever this strange feeling was.

It was just a mistake. Not listening to Uryu then was just one of many mistakes he had made in the past and unfortunately—could not undo. He knew that Ishida was always looking out for him, recommending what was best for not only himself, but the both of them so that they could defeat their enemies more swiftly and leave the battle unscarred. He just couldn't seem to help himself and had gotten so used to—_too _used to ignoring Ishida, which resulted in him feeling this way now. And in this situation.

If he could take it back, he would.

Parting his lips, a shaky sigh escaped the teen's mouth as he opened his eyes. Looking towards the floor, Ichigo frowned as his eyebrows creased slightly—his fingers curling into light fists as he placed his arms in front of him.

He should have just told Uryu what had happened. When things had gone smoothly—when Uryu began remembering things; he should have told him then. Instead of waiting till they got into a fight such as the one they had just done now which had resulted in him realizing he should have sooner. Because now—because he had waited and had to realize it on his own, he had to fight this self-battle which he knew he would end up losing. He always won against other people—against hollows, enemies, even his hollow self. But to his actual self—to the very person who had caused the problem; he would lose.

Curling up a bit more, this time Ichigo withheld the breath from escaping him as he began to close his mouth. Giving one final glance to the floor, his eyes slid shut as well as his body relaxed with drowsiness. But even as he drifted off, he couldn't help but think—_I never apologized for not listening to him the first time, in the first place._

-X-

_HOLLOW, HOLLOW, HOLLOW—HOLLOW!_

Startled from his sleep, Ichigo sat up abruptly as he tossed aside his covers. Looking around blindly for a moment, he then eyed the flashing representative badge as it lay lifelessly atop his desk. For a moment he just sat there—staring before turning to glance towards his windowsill. Noticing the dark shade to the sky indicating it was well passed the typical person's bedtime, Ichigo quickly scooted out of bed—throwing his legs over the side of the mattress as he stood and reached for his combat pass. Fumbling with the object, if only for a moment—the teen quickly pressed the item against his chest; allowing his human form to fall backwards and onto his bed as he stepped around it quickly and began to open the window.

On some level, Ichigo was dreading facing another creature head on and so soon—especially considering he was alone. But the other half of him—more dominant, perhaps; was thankful that he would get this chance to destroy one whilst listening to Ishida's advice. Or at least—what little advice he remembered Ishida having told him in the past, so that he could subconsciously redeem himself and clear his mind of the past events and thoughts.

It didn't take him long to locate the hollow—its thin, long and slightly bug-ish form looming over top of a nearby street lamp as it made its way towards Ichigo. Lifting his hand quickly, he placed it behind his back—unsheathing his Zanpakuto before swinging it forward; jumping at the hollow during the meanwhile and slashing down its mask. As it dissolved, a satisfied feeling began to coarse through the teen's veins—making him more alert than ever, so much so that he even noticed the second hollow approaching before it even had the chance to roar.

Turning on his heel, Ichigo reach up as he lifted his sword. Parting his lips to speak—to call out one of his moves, he froze as an arrow soon sped past him. Blinking, his body still and his hand remained risen above his head; Ichigo turned slowly before looking over his shoulder and spotting the teenager who stood no more than a few feet away from him.

"Ishida…"

Approaching the Substitute slowly, Ishida glanced up at the teen as he reached up to adjust his glasses. With his right hand, he lowered the bow held within his grasp; his left hand sliding into his pocket afterwards as he pressed his lips together. Stopping—no more than a few steps away from the orange haired teen, Ishida waited silently—patiently, before soon speaking up. "Are you going to stand there all day, Kurosaki?"

Bristling momentarily, Ichigo stiffened and lowered his arm. However—after a few seconds of mulling over the archer's words he began to realize; Ishida had reverted back to normal conversation. So that could only mean that without saying anything—Ishida was trying to put things back into how they once were.

That thought alone allowed the Substitute to relax, and—returning to his own usual self, he scoffed; looking away as he swung Zangetsu over his shoulder. "Of course not, moron!" Scowl forming upon his features, he watched out of the corner of his eye as Ishida rolled his eyes. Resisting the urge to smile, he simply began to make his way towards the teenager—purposefully walking a few paces around him as not to seem to content in their new form of communication. It was when Ishida's bow began to disappear and the Quincy made his way over to him as well did his expression soften—despite the fact he still felt the tiniest bit nervous.

Watching as Ishida parted his lips to speak, his head snapped upwards after Ishida's did as well—and watched as another hollow formed.

Gritting his teeth, he spared the Quincy a glance and watched as Uryu's gaze soon met his own—only for Ishida to nod silently as his bow reappeared. So that was, in Ishida's way—a silent invitation to proceed?

Not wanting to ignore even the most subtle of directions that Ishida had now given him, Ichigo launched forwards into flash step as he rose his blade. From afar, he could see Ishida had risen his bow as well—aiming a couple of arrows at the hollow's limbs to hack it down; allowing Ichigo room to smash at its mask.

Only he didn't.

Because soon enough, each limb that had fallen was replaced by another—and the limbs that had fallen to the ground had turned into other hollows. Grinding his jaw together, Ichigo backed up quickly—meeting Ishida half way as the many hollows began to circle the area; effectively trapping them within a small barrier.

"Kurosaki…"

"Yeah?" Looking over his shoulder as Ishida's back gently bumped against his own, Ichigo held Zangetsu out—poised in front of himself as he spared the teenager a glance.

"I call the ones on the left… You go right."

Without hesitating or even sparing a moment to ask 'who's left' and 'who's right'—Ichigo grinned. "On three?" When he spotted the faintest of smirks upon the archer's lips from the corner of his eye; his own grin widened.

"One…. Two…"

"Three!" Launching himself at the many hollows—Ichigo made sure to aim for their masks and the masks only. He could tell that it was the wisest decision, and that Ishida was doing the same—because with each hollow they defeated by cracking the mask first, no doubles were made. And soon enough, in no time—Ichigo found himself panting as he skidded next to the archer's side. No hollow could be seen nearby, and as far as his reiatsu sensing went—he couldn't feel any either.

"Ahh…" Letting out a breath, Ichigo closed his eyes before rubbing the back of his neck. Lifting Zangetsu once more, he stabbed its end into the ground before turning to face the archer as Ishida began to approach him. Listening to the quiet sounds of Uryu's shoes against the pavement, he met the teen's eyes with a serious expression of his own—waiting, listening as Uryu began to speak.

"I assume it's alright to talk about yesterday then..?"

When Ishida began to trail off—almost as if he was considering Ichigo's feelings, the Substitute couldn't help but smile. Closing his eyes, he bowed his head for a moment before lifting his gaze afterwards to look the teen in the eye. "Yeah…" Answering quietly, his words slightly mumbled—he lifted Zangetsu from the ground before stepping forwards.

However—just as he was about to make his way towards the Quincy so that they could be close enough to talk, both of them glanced up once more as the original hollow appeared.

"It must have had some sort of cloaking device!"

Hearing Ishida's words, Ichigo glared at the creature as he backed up a few paces. Growling quietly under his breath, he was about to launch forward and attack when it happened—

Seeing Ishida, out of the corner of his eye; raising his bow as his face remained strained, he could tell. His arm was hurting, right by his shoulder—the arm of which his dominant hand was used, the one that had been injured because of him. It was funny—really, how watching Ishida do such a simple action triggered something inside of him. Because as the hollow moved forward to attack the Quincy—Ichigo found it was he, this time, who pushed the archer aside; this time yelling out.

"NO!" Raising Zangetsu quickly, Ichigo slashed downwards. Just as the hollow had approached, he smashed Zangetsu's blade roughly—into its mask. Hands clenched tightly onto his sword's hilt, his glare remained in place up until the hollow had vanished. But even then, his rapid breathing could clearly be seen from a distance, even as he began to calm down.

"K…Kurosaki?" Wide, cerulean coloured orbs glanced up at the Substitute—a baffled and somewhat startled expression gracing the Quincy's features. However, Ichigo either didn't seem to notice the teenager, so he tried to say his name once more. "Kurosaki?" When Ichigo stiffened this time in response, Ishida found himself slowly pushing off of the ground. Dusting his hands off on the back of his pants, he pressed his lips together as his eyebrows threatened to crease—more so in confusion, than anything else.

As Ichigo's head turned away, Ishida paused for a moment before letting out a soft breath. Reaching up slowly, he placed his hand gently atop the Substitute's shoulder before leaning over as he spoke quietly. "I think it would help if you tell me, this time…" Keeping his tone as soft as possible, Uryu's lips thinned once more as his fingers gave a small squeeze. Watching as Ichigo's chin slowly turned in his direction—azure coloured orbs stared wordlessly into chocolate hues as the single word then escaped the Substitute's mouth.

"Y-Yeah…" Pausing—if only for a moment, Ichigo closed his eyes and continued. "I think it will."

-X-

The soft sound of fingertips tapping against the wooden frame of a table could be heard as the two teen's sat in silence. Outside of the small apartment's window, the dark midnight sky could be seen—stars beginning to shine, clearly showing that it was far too late for even the oldest of teenagers to be out and about, roaming the streets. Despite this, the two teenagers sat within the archer's home; the one which Ryuken did not pay for—seeing as the archer had kept it, even after being forced to move back in with his father. And to be honest—he had once deemed it a bit troublesome, but now found it benefitting.

Especially considering the conversation that had just went on now was an important one he would preferred Ryuken not to have eavesdropped in on or overheard.

After quite sometime of sitting there, alone after walking to Ishida's apartment; Ichigo had finally explained, in detail, what had gone on that night. The night that Ishida had been injured due to Ichigo's lack of understanding. But even though Ichigo had explained everything—ranging from what had happened before, up until him losing consciousness and even the part where he had stopped breathing; Ishida found it a bit unbelievable, hard to believe. And at the same time—silly.

And due to the fact that it was Ishida's turn to respond and he had yet to do so—the room became uncomfortably quiet, and he could tell that Ichigo was nervous just by looking at him, without even lifting his gaze to watch the teen's entire body react. Looking up slowly, Ishida's lips remained pressed together before a soft sigh soon emitted from his body. Watching as Ichigo tensed—his shoulders squaring as his head bowed down, Uryu couldn't help but look over the Substitute's frame before reacting unexpectedly.

"You know…" Feeling the spiritual pressure which surrounded him tense as Ichigo froze, Ishida closed his eyes as he continued. "You really are an idiot, Kurosaki." Feeling Ichigo's eyes look up at him, Ishida opened his eyes once more as he looked into Ichigo's optics. When the teen simply frowned, his lips pressing together instead of reacting how he normally would with some sort of snappish comeback; Uryu rolled his eyes.

"Only an idiot would believe something like that was his fault." Sitting up straight, Ishida reached forward and gently grasped a nearby mug as he brought it to his lips. "I know you well enough—or knew you well enough by then to know that you wouldn't listen to a thing I said. The fact that you reacted as predicted only meant that I knew what I was doing. I pushed you out of the way to save you from being a moron; I didn't do it simply to become heroic." Closing his eyes as his lips gently pressed against the rim of his mug, Uryu took a small sip before continuing. "Besides—I'd most likely do it again, if I had to."

Listening to Ishida speak caused Ichigo to remain rooted on the spot. After everything that had happened, after bottling up everything to finally tell Uryu what had went on that day—this had been the last thing he had expected Ishida to say in response to it. In fact—he probably hadn't even come up with that reaction as a possibility in his mind, let alone realize that it Uryu was capable of reacting in such a… Positive way.

Feeling something odd coil within the pit of his stomach, Ichigo shifted a bit on his knees as he swallowed. Unsure as to what he should say—his lips parted to speak; only to open and close a couple of times as he remained speechless. How was he supposed to react to that, without a question of his own? "R—Really?" Finally speaking up, his response was somewhat stuttered as uncertain chocolate orbs watched the Quincy cautiously. However, when Ishida remained silent for a couple of minutes, only to slowly look up at him with a one word answer—Ichigo stilled.

"Yes."

Suddenly, a flash of heat began to rise to the Substitute's face. For some reason, it felt hot all of a sudden within the archer's home; and this odd thudding sensation pounded against the inside of his chest and his rib cage. Swallowing once more, Ichigo slowly placed his hands onto the floor as he crossed his legs—sitting back a bit and looking away before his expression soon softened. Looking up at Ishida—watching as Ishida's own, uncertain gaze met his own; he couldn't help but smile. "Thank you… Ishida."

"You don't need to thank me—Kurosaki." Blinking in confusion, perplexed as to why Ichigo was smiling up at him; Ishida looked away. Reaching up quietly, he began to adjust his glasses as he continued to mutter incoherently, under his breath. "It's not as if it's a hard decision, really. Anyone would have done it."

Watching Ishida's reaction caused Ichigo to roll his eyes—the softest of chuckles escaping his parted lips as he shook his head and looked away. Glancing back at the teen as his chin tilted upwards, he couldn't help but relax his shoulders as his hands slid into his lap. "No… You wouldn't do that for just anyone, you know? In the past, you always told me how we weren't friends and how you hated Shinigami; so every time you came to help me, it was just to show how much better you were than me. But… Hearing you say now that you'd save me—not because of that sort of reason… It makes me feel a lot better."

Watching as Ishida simply stared up at him—dumbfounded, the tint to his cheeks lightening in shade; Ichigo once more shook his head as he began to stand. Closing his eyes as he did so, he could feel the confusion radiating of the archer's body as he began to dust his hands off on the back of his pants and make his way towards the door. "Well—I guess I'll be going then. We're gonna need our rest for tomorrow morning."

Furrowing his brows, Ishida frowned as he shifted to sit up on his knees. Feeling his head tilt in the slightest, he opened his mouth to ask what Ichigo had meant—only to feel himself become relaxed at the answer he received. "Why, Kurosaki? What are you doing tomorrow?"

Stopping at the door, his feet pressing into his shoes—Ichigo glanced over his shoulder. A smile forming upon his features once more; this one resembling that of a grin, he answered easily. "Going to help get your memories back, of course!"

-X-

To be continued.


	10. Chapter 10

Look at me  
Chapter ten: To progress

A/N: **RAISE YOUR HAND IF YOU NOTICED ICHIGO GOT DEM BUTTERFLIES IN HIS TUMMY DURING THE LAST CHAPTER!** …No, just that one reviewer plus me and a friend? Well, you were right in spotting that he is! Or at least, he has! But unfortunately, Ichigo himself is far too dense to realize that. Haha! Anyways; sorry for the wait on this one, despite my having already stated that updates will be slow, I feel a bit bad that it took so long to get STARTED on this one – let alone how long it took to write it. But… We're making progress! I don't think it will end soon, but it might. I haven't exactly planned how things would end, however.

Also! Please be super patient and nice to me, considering this chapter was probably one of the hardest to write. I've been having issues with a writer's block for over a month now… So every time I sat down to write, I'd feel this nagging, headache sort of sensation that would do nothing more than irritate me. Therefore, half of this was written with that mind-set, so it's not the best it possibly could be. (And you have no idea how much I wanted to just quit and write something else. But I knew this would never get done and I'd have to get back to it regardless.) So… Nonetheless, I didn't want to spend forever trying to write it for you guys, so here it is. Also, this is probably the shortest chapter yet.

***Sōzu**: A type of water fountain used in Japanese gardens.

ALSO** IF THERE ARE ANY ISSUES WITH THIS OR MISSING WORDS, I BLAME FANFICTION.** It said my file wasn't compatible, so I had to use the 'copy and paste' method it allows to upload chapters/new fanfics. I don't know why my document wasn't compatible, I used Microsoft word as per usual, but hey. Maybe its an error. (I tried using different internets to upload it, but it still didn't work so I gave in and copied and pasted. Oh well.)

-X-

"So…. Tell me then, Kurosaki." Keeping his back positioned correctly as his hands remained rested firmly atop each of his criss-crossed knees, Ishida continued. "Why are we doing this again?"

The faint sound of water drizzling could be heard in the background, along with the periodical tapping noise as the sōzumoved back and forth upon it's rested area. No more than a mere ten or so inches away from it sat two identical teenagers (identical referring to their personalities, that is – as well as their strange attire) as they sat straight-backed and aligned, upon a thinly carpeted floor. It had been no more than twenty minutes at the most –give or take the hour it took the older to set up, since they had seated themselves accordingly within the vacant area at the back of the shop. The younger, however, was now beginning to wonder why on earth he had agreed to do such a thing—without being told why they were doing this in the first place.

As the question registered within the Substitute's mind, brown irises remained sealed – his eyelashes resting against the skin of his cheeks as he parted his lips in the slightest to murmur out a response. "Well, it's beneficial to both the mind and body, y'know? If you concentrate on your breathing, then your body begins to relax and – uh, this stuff enters your veins, allowing you to think back and remember things that are hidden beneath your… mind's… surface…" Voice becoming quieter, more so mumbled towards the end; orange brows evidently knit together. Obviously a bit confused at his own words, yet trying to understand them at the same time – Ichigo opened his eyes and looked over at the other as the skin-tight material of his yoga outfit stretched tightly against his frame. "At least, that's what Urahara… told…me…"

And that's when Ichigo's eyebrow twitched.

A sudden burst of laughter, however muffled from behind closed doors echoed throughout the shop's inner barriers. Feeling his eyebrows crease all the more, an irritated vein bulged against the side of Ichigo's temple, revealing how aggravated he really was. "URAHARA YOU ASSHOLE! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU MADE ME FALL FOR THAT AGAIN!" Standing abruptly and knocking down a nearby table; Ichigo made his way across the room and didn't hesitate to yank open one of the many sliding doors to rush his way inside. "I'LL KILL YOU!"

Letting out a soft, yet somewhat irritated breath (whilst ignoring the two morons who were now tackling each other effortlessly) – Ishida shook his head. He should have known that when Kurosaki had asked – or more so, demanded that he bring a spare change of clothing to the Urahara Shoten with an unnatural amount of enthusiasm, it would have been for a reason such as this. The fact that Ichigo hadn't even bothered to ask clearly or do some research before-hand only showed Ishida all the more, how truly naïve the Shinigami was. (As if he hadn't already assumed such in the first place, however.) Well, both that and the fact that Ichigo was gullible enough to believe that something so simple such as yoga could regain lost memory told Ishida more than what he needed to know. Not only was Ichigo gullible, a bit naïve and childish – but he's apparently stupid as well.

Shaking his head once more and closing his eyes, thin legs separated as the archer began to stand. Ignoring the sounds of rustling bodies and argumentative growling, Ishida rolled his eyes briefly and averted his gaze. Pressing his palm to the flat of the floorboards Ishida pushed himself upwards and took a few steps forward before up-righting the table which Ichigo had so carelessly knocked over. Dusting his hands off on the front of his pants, he then made his way towards the opposite door which would allow him to exit the shop. Before leaving, however, he was wise enough to slide on a pair of loose-fitting track pants; fitting them snugly over top of the skin tight material which he previously adorned. Leaning over afterward and grasping his shoes which rested against the rack, the archer began to slide each foot into the correct piece of footwear as he readied himself to leave.

It was when he stood erect once more did the rustling noises come to a gradual halt, the sound of a door sliding open echoing in sync with the door which Uryu now opened as well.

"Oi—Ishida, wait!"

Unfortunately for Ichigo, it was too late.

Ignoring the sounds of Ichigo's protests, Ishida's bag was soon slung over his shoulder whilst he walked through the opened door. Not bothering to shut it, seeing as it would eventually slide close on its own – the archer didn't need to glance back to realize that Ichigo had hurriedly began to follow him. His over-powering spiritual pressure made it obvious enough.

And, as if on cue, the faint sound of heavy breathing soon reached the Quincy's eardrums; signalling that not only was Ichigo approaching him, but he was also close. Though, instead of doing his best as per usual to ignore the Substitute, he opted for closing his eyes whilst slowing his pace so that the other could eventually match it.

Feeling his breath catch for a moment at the abrupt change of pace, Ichigo slowed himself almost immediately afterwards when he was sure that the archer wasn't just toying with him. Of course, he realized after a few seconds pause that Ishida had slowed purposefully for his sake, not the others' – and although he was rendered confused due to the fact that Ishida had just left without him (and now he was slowing down so that he could catch up, for who knows why) he decided not to question it as his body began to relax.

Waiting for a little while after catching up to the teen as well, Ichigo soon spoke up to break the silence as he shuffled forward on his feet. "I—uh… I'm sorry about that." He murmured, muttering lamely as he looked away. Reaching up to rub the back of his neck, the Shinigami adjusted the strap of his own, shoulder bag and slung it over his arm to match the others' current positioning as well. Even though he knew he should have thought twice about using the Shop Keep's idea's (seeing as he had fooled him on countless of occasions before) it seemed to be a habit he just couldn't break. Not only that, but he was apparently gullible enough to drag Ishida into it without so much as a second thought. So… Hopefully the Quincy wouldn't be _too _annoyed with him.

"Its fine, Kurosaki." Replying immediately without skipping a beat, Ishida spoke clearly as he began to clear his throat. "It's not like I questioned you before-hand, so I'm not going to scold you." Lifting his gaze and sparing the teenager a sideways glance, Ishida had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at the look he received before averting his gaze. "Besides…" Feeling the corners of his lips twitch upwards, if only the slightest – he continued. "I shouldn't have expected someone like you to come up with something so… _elaborate_ on your own which would actually **work**."

Rolling his eyes at the typical, 'Uryu-like' response, Ichigo glanced elsewhere once more as his eyebrows knit together. "I dunno…" Muttering quietly and glancing upwards, Ichigo scoffed. Shoving his hands into his pockets and tilting his chin, a curt, "You're beginning to sound like your old self again, at least – so it must have worked on some level." escaped him through gritted teeth, the sound resembling that a muffled mumble as he pursed his lips.

"What was that, Kurosaki?"

"Nothing."

Skeptical and disbelieving, Ishida narrowed his eyes. On one hand he knew what the other had spoken – but within the other, he pondered, if he heard him correctly. Nonetheless, he wasn't going to question it simply out of curiosity, for he knew Ichigo was baiting him (or teasing him, really) in a way that would suggest he was lightening the mood. Uryu wasn't exactly going to ruin it. (For now.)

Shaking his head and closing his eyes, Ishida pressed his chin downwards as he continued to move. However, the closer they got to his home and the further they stepped – that nagging, infuriating sensation began to crawl up the back of his spine, suggesting that something terrible was going to happen – or at least, close to it.

And that was when he felt it.

Eyes opening immediately as his chin snapped upwards, he could see the slightly raised eyebrow from the corner of his eye. Though, ignoring Kurosaki and focusing deeper on the reiatsu which they were approaching, he found his teeth gritting in frustration as he stopped abruptly; merely inches from his door. "Alright Kurosaki, you can go now. I'm quite capable of walking the rest of the way from _here_." Pressing his lips together and tightening his fingers around the strap of his bag, he could see the startled – taken aback look, before the signature scowl soon formed into place.

"What—? Why? What did I do? You know I was joking, right? There's no need to get mad."

Ignoring the words, though listening with half an ear – Ishida's gaze once more drifted towards his apartment as his teeth ground together. "Well it wasn't very funny, Kurosaki – and you're taking this too lightly. Spouting out some random, half-assed jokes after forcing me to do _yoga _which was completely useless. I mean really—it's as if you're not even trying anymore."

And that's when Ichigo glared.

Eyebrow twitching, Ichigo couldn't control the urge to retort as he took a single step forward and parted his lips. "Hey, I told you I'm going to help you get your memories back and I'm doing my best—so you don't have to be so anal and act like an asshole! If you don't want to do that sort of thing, then I understand. I was just trying it out, your_ highness_, it's not like I'm dicking around. Besides—you were the one who went along with it!"

Although there was an unfamiliar tightening his chest at the thought of retaliating with the other, that all-too-familiar reiatsu had the archer's mind clouded. And as the bitter-sweet aroma of cigarette smoke entered the air, Ishida found his teeth gritting as he took Ichigo's bait. "I only did it to satisfy you, Kurosaki! Since you were the one who made me forget everything in the first place!"

Slightly startled by the archer's sudden outburst, or more so by the actual words used - Ichigo blinked for a moment and took a step back. For some reason, his mind told him to pressure onwards – attempt to gorge more information from the Quincy so that whatever feelings were hidden, would be brought to the surface. He had _assumed _such things were cleared the previous night when he had apologized to Ishida (and told him, on top of all that – how he had lost his memories) but apparently despite Ishida's forgiving nature and words, he would always feel a bit apprehensive towards Ichigo.

But then really, who could blame him?

But at the same time… Even though he wanted to ask for more, as soon as Ishida's glare met his lifted gaze, his anger triumphed over his curious nature. "Fine—" Gritting his own teeth and clenching his fist, Ichigo scowled deeply and turned away. "Since you're apparently so mad at the moment, when you were fine last night – I'll leave you alone for a bit so that you can get your head on straight." Turning all the more and shoving a hand into his pocket, Ichigo's brows creased all the more as he began to walk away. "Talk to you when you're not so moody, then."

Parting his lips to retaliate – his eyebrows furrowing as Ichigo turned away, Ishida frowned. Pursing his lips and glancing elsewhere, he remained silent – even as Ichigo spared a final glance over his shoulder, until finally, he walked away.

As the gradual distance formed between Ichigo's and his own spiritual pressure, Ishida turned slowly towards his door; squaring his shoulders and reaching for the knob as he turned the handle and stepped inside. It wasn't as though his words indicated that he was still mad at Ichigo, it was simply because of the fact that **_he _**was there. It wasn't something he had to hide from Ichigo, necessarily; he simply couldn't think of any other way to turn Ichigo away. Arguing seemed like the best bet, though for some reason he thought that had to do with his loss of memory. He wondered briefly, whether or not he could have come up with something better, had he known more about Ichigo's (and perhaps his own) personality.

Stepping through the house and tensing immediately, the archer's gaze hardened. "What are you doing here, Ryuken?" He finally spoke, lifting his eyelids and shutting the door behind himself before allowing his eyes to narrow. Watching as cerulean hues drifted towards him, their sight practically filled with ice – his brow twitched.

"I do believe you were instructed to remain within the house – and you know full well that I do not imply this one."

Rolling his eyes and removing the bag from his shoulder in an all-too-familiar routine, Ishida shrugged. "I understood what you said perfectly well, Ryuken. However—" Turning his head to face the elder Ishida, his expression softening as his tone became smug; he continued. "Just because you ordered me to do so, doesn't mean I have to listen to you as if you own me."

Watching as a cigarette was placed limply through parted lips, Ishida bristled and rolled his eyes. Ignoring the narrowed stare he received from the other, he padded his way across the apartment only to pause as Ryuken spoke.

"Someone who's weak enough to get himself hurt to this extent have no right to have privileges such as living by their lonesome."

Feeling his brows furrow once more and his eye begin to twitch, Ishida's lips parted immediately only to be interrupted.

"Might I remind you that you're still seventeen, I am still your legal guardian – therefore I can bring you back home whenever I please."

"And you're forgetting that even though I had a _momentary lapse of strength _I will **never **be so weak as to need to be assisted by the likes of you." This time his voice hardened – his tone dropping at each emphasised interval as his fists clenched at his side. "I've already regained most, if not all of my memory – therefore you have no need to be concerning yourself with my well being. If you want to feel the need to look after someone then go back to the hospital; I'm sure there are plenty of patients for you there."

Soon enough, a long exhale was prolonged – a thin puff of smoke entering the inside of Uryu's apartment as Ryuken closed his eyes. Watching, however irritably as Ryuken lowered his hand – cigarette between his fingers – it was when Ryuken's gaze lifted towards him did he frown once more, shifting.

"And that's where you're nothing more than a fool."

Confused, albeit discreetly – though obviously annoyed, Ishida's eyebrows knit even further upon his forehead as his lips parted once more. However, just as he had been interrupted before – he was halted by the sudden movement as Ryuken pushed himself from where he stood and made his way towards the door.

Remaining quiet, though still a bit skeptical – Ishida took a few steps closer as a pale hand was pressed against the doorknob. He knew that the atmosphere within the room had changed, as soon as he had spoken those final words. Yet he was almost certain that what he had said surely wouldn't be enough to discourage Ryuken – so why was he leaving now? Although… He supposed (begrudgingly) that the other would always have an upper hand when it came to fighting with words, for the next bit which were to escape Ryuken's mouth had him internally seething.

"If you have forgotten, then, I will remind you. It's your own foolishness that caused you to lose your memory in the first place, due to your meager skills which you apparently take pride in. So should you bicker or place anyone at fault, it should be towards none other than yourself. If the truth is so strongly to your disliking, I suggest you try harder next time."

Because of the effect which Ryuken's words seemed to have on the younger, Ishida's head remained bowed even as the distant 'clicking' sound echoed throughout the air, signaling that Ryuken had left. He realized that Ryuken's presence meant nothing other than the current results – however despite how prepared he had hoped himself to be, that was never the case. Not only that, but due to his lack of retaliation when the time most called for it – he knew that, whether he liked it or not, for who knows how long after – the next few days would be spent in a place elsewhere, which could no longer be labelled his 'home'. Or at least… Not after his Sensei's passing.

Clenching his hands once more and lifting his head, Ishida glanced elsewhere and turned on his heel. If he were going to be forced to do something against his will, there was nothing that said he had to go quietly.

-X-

From outside the window of a familiar apartment, orange brows creased as he glanced towards his right. Watching quietly as a man whose hair resembled the colour of the clouds, Ichigo sat back against the railing as he then began to frown.

So that was why Ishida had pushed him away.

On some level, he had known that Uryu's sudden change of behaviour had to do with something other than himself. Of course, he didn't expect Ishida to have forgiven him as quickly as he had the previous night, but he didn't exactly doubt Uryu's decisions either. (Regardless of memory or no memory, Ishida was almost always true to his word.) He supposed it was because of how sudden it was, an unexpected at that – that he failed to see, or feel, really, the spiritual pressure which wafted almost painstakingly obvious from the archers home. Yes, he was bad at sensing things and most situations could completely pass over his head – but he had gotten better over the past few months in regaining his powers, and knew how to sense those which were familiar to him.

He supposed he had been too caught up in the moment to even bother to seek it out, or try and sense anything that might have been… different, about the situation he and Uryu were in. However, he did realize that something had to have been up, before he had fully begun to walk away. He wondered as well if Ishida had noticed his arrival upon his return; though he supposed the answer was probably a negative – seeing as the argument commenced within his presence.

That being said… He wondered if Ishida's father knew too. Ishida had always gone on (whenever he opened up, that is) about why he disliked Ryuken. Of course he never went into detail, but it was plain to see that he disliked the man for valid reasons. Ichigo could tell that Ryuken didn't care whether they had an audience or not, which most likely meant that the same went for any arguments he and Uryu had partaken in, in the past as well. Kinda made him feel bad, seeing as his own childhood (however dark at one point) had gone much smoother…

Shaking his head and up-righting himself, Ichigo gave one final glance into the window of the archer's home. Ishida was no longer in sight, though he could still sense his spiritual pressure – so he was nearly certain that the other had simply entered another room. Glancing elsewhere and turning his head, he jumped from the attached balcony as he slid his hands back into his pockets.

So not only was it his fault that Ishida had lost his memories, but it was his fault he had to live with Ryuken as well. He should have known that, that would have been the major thing which would have upset Ishida the most. However… Ryuken failed to see how well the Quincy was doing, and Ichigo knew that the male wouldn't listen – even if it was his son who was voicing such facts out loud.

Sighing and shaking his head, closing his eyes in the meanwhile – Ichigo's head tilted upwards as he walked and made his way down a familiar street.

Even if Uryu wouldn't be the one whom Ryuken would listen to, there had to be someone. After all… Ichigo didn't want Ishida to have to face anything else anymore. (Or anything he disliked, really.) He felt guilty enough, regardless of having Ishida accept his apology; there was nothing he hated more than being the cause for a friends unhappiness. So that could only leave…

Ah, yeah, he'd have to be the one to do it, wouldn't he? He knew this was coming, sooner or later. After all… His father had already spoken with Ryuken, so why not him? He was the one to get Ishida into this situation in the first place, so it was only right that he get him out of it. Even if that meant…. Even if that meant having to speak to Ryuken.

Who would probably want to chop his head off.

-X-

To be continued.


End file.
